Deceptive Cadence
by Sadakat
Summary: Severus Snape knew that his new found rapport with Harry Potter would have its fair share of problems. But even he, Death Eater spy and Dark Arts master, could not have predicted the perilous journey that lay before them. Sequel to The Sleeping Sickness
1. Unfinished Business

A/N: Well, that didn't take too long, now did it? Yes my friends, I have returned with a sequel, and much sooner than even _I_ anticipated!

This is the sequel to The Sleeping Sickness, and so I highly recommend you read that story first if you have not already.

Background: Deceptive Cadence takes place about one month after The Sleeping Sickness ended. Harry and Severus have been getting along fine with their new found respect for each other, and Albus, of course, couldn't be happier about it. Hermione and Ron have been properly filled in, and Snape does not have to act quite as nasty to any of the Golden Trio in Potions class, as Draco's father has undoubtedly filled his son in on Voldemort's newest plan. Severus and Harry have been continuing their Occlumency and DADA lessons, and Harry has been (GASP!) actually improving!

Hats off to my wonderful beta Sindie, as she will be correcting my grammar throughout the story! And she does such an impressive job :-)

* * *

Deceptive Cadence

Chapter 1: Unfinished Business

The full moon appeared slightly hazy through the thin layer of cloud that covered it. The dim light that it created would have lit up Privet Drive, had there not been an obnoxiously bright street light every twenty feet. The autumn air of the night was crisp, and the cool breeze sent dried leaves somersaulting.

It was All Hallows Eve in Little Whinging, Surrey, and the night was drawing to an end. Only a small amount of children littered the streets, as most had already returned home. Those that remained clutched their candy-filled sacks with joy, eager to get home and eat as much as their mums and dads would allow.

A small girl gasped suddenly, stepping aside as a tall, dark-cloaked man strode purposefully down the sidewalk, almost knocking her over. His face was set in determination and his appearance was quite intimidating, despite the limp in his step. His dark eyes made contact with the girl for only a moment as he continued on his way quickly, causing his black robes to violently billow out from behind him.

"Bumbling little whelp," the man muttered in annoyance.

As he continued to stalk down the street, he grew increasingly irritated with the way each house was a mirror image of the one that preceded it. When he had finally reached number four, he decided that the address truly was the only way he'd ever be able to locate a specific house, as none held any distinguishing features.

He headed up the stone walkway and wasted little time before knocking on the door.

A shrill voice came from inside the house.

"Dudders! Could you get that for Mummy, please?"

A whale of a boy answered the door, his red cheeks covered with smears of chocolate. The boy slowly looked up until his wide eyes made contact with the dark orbs of the intimidating man in the doorway.

"We don't have any more candy; we ran out a while ago," the boy muffled around a mouth full of chocolate.

The dark man carefully looked over the boy with an expression of distaste. His eyes roamed over the rotund belly, flabby arms and chubby cheeks before making eye contact once again.

"Indeed," he replied simply.

The furtive insult went right over the teenager's head as he swallowed his mouthful of sweets. He looked at the man with confusion, and began speaking with a tone of superiority. "Aren't you a little _old_ to be Trick or Treating? What are you supposed to be, anyway?"

The man tapped his lower lip with a slender finger in mock thoughtfulness before looming over the plump boy menacingly.

"Angry," he replied with a scowl. "Why don't you run along now and fetch your parents, Dudley Dursley," he whispered perilously.

The teenager's eyes widened in fear before he quickly turned around and waddled off. "Mum! Dad!"

A smirk of satisfaction spread across the man's lips as he remained in the doorway.

"What's all this about?" A thin woman with a long, horse-like face rounded the corner. She was wiping her hands on a towel as Dudley dragged her down the foyer towards the mystery man. Upon noticing him, the woman stopped in her tracks.

"YOU!" she shrieked.

The man responded by crossing his arms over his chest and looking her up and down hatefully. "What's the matter, Petunia? Angry that you actually have to do some of the housework _yourself_ these days?"

Petunia Dursley ignored the comment, but her face tinged red with anger all the same. "Severus Snape! You-you have no business here!" she bellowed.

Professor Severus Snape, Potions master, glared fiercely at the woman. "Aren't you going to invite me in?"

Petunia's already thin lips pressed into a line. "No! Absolutely not!" she shouted as she began stalking toward the door with intent to slam it shut. When she grabbed hold of the door, however, it seemed to be stuck in place. She tried shutting it several times, using all of her strength to push and pull at it, but it would not budge. Panting, she looked up to see Snape smirking at her.

"I-I want you to-to stop using that _freak_ magic!" Petunia attempted to be demanding, but her obvious fear at what Snape was capable of was showing right through her façade.

Severus snarled angrily at the woman's use of the word "freak", as he had seen it yelled at Harry Potter so many times in the boy's memories.

"The only thing 'freakish' that has happened in this house was the blatant mistreatment of one of _my_ students!"

Petunia paled and began shaking her head. "You-you can't prove anything! We took that good-for-nothing child out of the goodness of our hearts! It's certainly not _my_ fault that his parents had to go and get themselves killed! We've been taking care of my worthless sister's freak child for years, and-"

"ENOUGH."

Petunia stepped back in fear at Snape's dangerous tone and malicious appearance. He looked as though he could snap at any moment.

Severus tilted his head to the side in contemplation, his dark eyes burning with anger. "One thing is for certain, Petunia. You did not inherit the manners that your sister possessed. The filth that is spewing from your mouth is unfathomable! I, fortunately, have a remedy for that."

Snape waved his hand casually, and a look of horror washed over Petunia's features. Coughing and sputtering, she took a step backward as soap bubbles began seeping out of her mouth.

Wide eyed and mouth gaping, it took only a moment for Dudley to run down the hallway, screaming as he went.

Severus stepped inside of the house, leaning over Petunia with a scowl. "Not very pleasant, is it?" he seethed. "If you're wondering how long it will last, I don't have an answer. But when you consider how long Harry Potter has had to endure this punishment wrongfully throughout his unfortunate time under this roof, you'll begin to get an accurate picture of the length of _your_ punishment."

Snape backed away and smirked at the look of terror on Petunia's face. Something told him she would be coughing up soap bubbles for quite some time.

"WHAT THE DEVIL IS GOING ON HERE?"

Snape turned from Petunia to witness the larger-than-life form of Vernon Dursley thumping down the hallway. The obese man paled at the sight of him, before his chubby cheeks turned purple upon noticing his wife's condition.

"Vernon Dursley," Snape's deep voice hissed. "The very reason for my visit…" he trailed off as he began stalking menacingly toward the shorter man.

Vernon stood his ground as Snape drew closer. His arms were crossed over his chest, but his eyes displayed fear at the tall, dark wizard walking toward him. "I demand that you undo whatever _freak_ magic you put on my wife and leave my house!"

Snape's eyes darkened more so at the use of the word "freak" again. He quickened the last few steps between himself and the whale, grabbing Vernon's shirt collar and pushing him up against the wall forcefully. He scowled down at the man as he loomed over him, his wand out in an instant and against the man's throat threateningly.

"I would say 'trick or treat', Dursley, but I'm not giving you the option," he snarled as he poked the tip of his wand even further into the man's double chin.

Vernon trembled underneath the wizard's gaze. The image of a scowling Severus Snape with such intense anger in his eyes, hovering above with his wand pressing into the shorter man's throat was not something to be taken lightly.

"Look, whoever you are! I don't know what you want and I don't care! I want you out of my house!" Vernon's face was turning purple again, and he spat as he shouted, trying to gain some form of control.

Snape inched in closer and began whispering, his voice seething and venomous. "I am Professor Severus Snape; see to it that you address me as such. The boy, your own_nephew_, was placed into your care for a reason. I have witnessed the horrors you have committed against him, and I'm here to let you know it will not go unpunished."

Vernon Dursley swallowed nervously, his eyes darting side to side. "Look, ah, Professor Snape, is it? You've taught the boy, right?"

Snape nodded slowly, curious to see how Dursley would try to wiggle his way out of his current predicament.

Vernon nodded as well and leaned in closer as he began talking quietly. "You must know what a troublemaker the boy is. Sometimes it's necessary to discipline with a firm hand; you know what I'm saying?"

The wizard nodded his head in understanding. "Or perhaps a firm belt; am I right, Dursley?" he added as he quirked an eyebrow thoughtfully.

Vernon smiled in response, feeling as though he and the professor were beginning to stand on common ground. "Exactly. I mean, who are we to say what type of punishment is technically right or wrong? If the boy is misbehaving, he needs to be taught a lesson."

Snape felt his blood begin to boil, and he simply could no longer pretend to be civil with the disgusting man in front of him. Grabbing his collar more forcefully, he slammed the man into the wall again. "Harry Potter has done _nothing_ to deserve your brand of discipline. In fact, you should consider yourself very lucky that the boy you locked up was so kind-hearted and loving. The fact that he was so caring and too young to do magic prevented you and your repulsive household from getting what you deserve. I assure you, you will not receive the same treatment from me!"

Vernon wiped his forehead as sweat began to pour. He looked to his wife, but she was still miserably coughing up bubbles. His son Dudley had already run upstairs in cowardice, locking himself in his room.

Snape sneered at the fear on Vernon's face. "What's the matter, Dursley? No one around to help you?" He glared down at the trembling man, feeling no remorse for frightening him in such a way. The bastard deserved so much more. An image of a shivering and injured Harry Potter huddled alone and in darkness underneath the stairs entered his mind then, and he felt his face get hot with anger. "Now you know exactly what it was like for a helpless little boy who was being tortured by his own family! SHOW ME THE CUPBOARD!"

Vernon jumped at the sudden roaring command of the dark-cloaked wizard who still clutched his shirt. He continued to shake, and could not meet the dark, furious eyes of the taller man before him. "I-I… I don't know what you're talk-"

"Don't lie to me," Snape commanded fiercely. "I can guarantee you will regret it."

Vernon found himself more put off by the cold command of the professor's lower tone than by the furious yell he had heard previously. He lifted a shaky finger and pointed underneath the stairs.

Snape turned his head, following the path of the fat finger. He then looked back at Vernon, his eyes blazing. "I know _where_ it is, idiot. Take me to it!"

Nodding dumbly, Vernon began waddling at wand-point toward the infamous "cupboard under the stairs." Snape gave him a malicious look that told Vernon he'd better stay put, before the wizard opened the cupboard and peered inside. Severus' heart ached at what he saw. Despite Harry not occupying the space for a couple of years, it still held small trinkets that proved a child did indeed once inhabit the space. There was a tattered old blanket in the corner, as well as broken pencils and shreds of paper with child-like writing on them. One of the pieces of paper had a childish drawing of Hogwarts castle on it, complete with Dumbledore, McGonagall and even, to his amazement, Professor Snape.

Snape sighed sadly to himself at the sight as he kneeled down. Despite how horrible he was to Harry those first years, the boy had still drawn a picture that included him. It proved that the poor child would have rather been insulted in his classroom than tortured in the blasted house he was forced to call "home."

Snape picked up the picture and shrunk it with his wand. He then carefully placed the drawing into his pocket, before standing and turning to face the nervous man beside him.

"We-we didn't have another bedroom… and I-I didn't have the money-"

"Silence your ramblings, you unbelievable bastard," Snape cut in with malice. "I _know_, without having to go upstairs, that you indeed have at least one extra bedroom. And what's more, I _know_ that it was loaded to the rim with toys for that spoiled orca who is now cowering in his room!"

Vernon continued to tremble, his hands twitching nervously at his side. "We gave the boy that extra bedroom…" he trailed off.

Snape sighed in frustration. "And how many years did _that_take, Dursley? How many _years_ to give a child a room instead of a closet?"

Vernon shrugged in response, and Snape nodded thoughtfully.

"Well, you're about to find out. Get inside," the professor commanded.

Vernon scoffed. "You-you must be joking! I'm not going in there!"

Snape stepped closer to the rotund man, determined to make him lose whatever bravery he felt coming back. "Do I look like an amusing man to you? GET IN."

All signs of Vernon's courage, however small that amount had been, vanished, and the man looked disbelievingly at the wizard. "B-but! I'll never fit in there!"

Snape's head cocked to the side, his lips twisting in anger at the man's refusal. "Well, then perhaps you should have thought of that before you forced an innocent child to dwell under there! Or before you shoved your fourth breakfast doughnut into that fat trap of yours! Either way, you're going inside!"

Snape raised his wand, and Vernon's body was flung inside of the cupboard, the door shutting and locking behind him. Snape stood by the cupboard for a few moments, smirking to himself as Vernon cussed and shouted from the inside.

Snape knocked on the outside of the door, effectively silencing the angry man inside.

"An eye for an eye, Dursley," Snape commented casually.

"You can't keep me in here! I swear I'll get back at you for this! I will not be forced to stay in here! This blasted cupboard isn't fit for a-!"

Dursley cut himself off, and Snape scowled at what went unsaid.

"For a what, Dursley? A _dog_? Was your _nephew_ a dog, you tactless arse?" Snape cut himself off, taking a deep breath as he resumed standing his full height. He had to gather himself before he was tempted to conjure up poisonous snakes to accompany Vernon Dursley in the closet. When he began talking again, his voice was calmer, and his deep baritone entered through the slotted cupboard door with fury. "Just like your wife, you will suffer for as long as you forced the boy to endure this… discipline, you call it? I imagine you might want to make yourself more comfortable in there."

Snape smirked as Vernon began cussing again, and the wizard headed toward the door. He made eye contact with a still hiccupping Petunia Dursley, who promptly ran into the kitchen to avoid anymore of the intimidating wizard's wrath.

Snape was about to exit the house until another thought occurred to him. Smiling, he waved his wand and muttered an incantation. He waited until he could hear yells of protest from the obese child upstairs before leaving. Once he heard the boy shouting, he knew he had successfully swapped bedrooms, causing Dudley Dursley to be locked inside Harry Potter's very empty, very boring room.

Severus Snape closed the door behind him and relished in the feeling of the cool air washing over his body that was still hot with anger. Breathing in deeply, he began walking down the now deserted Privet Drive.

* * *

It was near midnight, and Severus sat comfortably in his armchair with an open book in his lap. He paused his reading to reach for his glass of firewhiskey, taking a long sip of the comforting fluid. He sighed in content as the warm tingle of the alcohol washed over his body. He was just about to continue his reading when the head of Albus Dumbledore appeared in his fireplace.

"Severus, may I have a word with you?"

Snape looked toward the headmaster's face, sensing the seriousness in his tone. "Certainly, Albus," Snape replied serenely.

"In my office, please," Dumbledore added before the image of his head disappeared.

Severus sighed, this time in annoyance, before leaving his seat and Flooing to the headmaster's office. He quickly performed a cleansing spell to remove any leftover soot, and then stood facing Albus' desk with crossed arms.

Dumbledore sat behind his desk and eyed Snape wearily. "Really, my boy, when have I ever asked you to my office and not require that you take a seat?"

Snape nodded his acknowledgement, and did his best to hide his limp as he headed toward the headmaster. Once he was seated, he folded is hands in his lap and gazed back at Albus expectantly.

"Lemon drop?" the headmaster offered casually.

Snape rolled his eyes. "Really, Albus. When have I ever come to your office and _accepted_ you offer of sweets?"

Dumbledore smiled kindly. "Point taken, my dear boy. On to the reason I asked you here, then. Ms. Arabella Figg contacted me a few moments ago," Dumbledore began casually with a twinkle in his eye.

"Oh?" Snape replied innocently.

"Indeed… it seems she was taking a stroll on Privet Drive earlier in the evening. She said she heard a lot of shouting coming from the Dursleys' home."

Snape shrugged his shoulders. "I really don't see how this concerns me, Albus."

Dumbledore leaned forward, fixing the younger wizard before him with a pointed gaze. "Severus, I know what happened this evening, and I can't help but be concerned."

Snape sighed exasperatedly; the innocence game was long over, if it had even happened at all. "There is no cause for concern; I did not harm that insufferable family… too much," he finished with a smirk.

Dumbledore couldn't help but let a small smile of satisfaction cross his features as well, before he turned serious again. "My dear boy, my concern is not for the Dursleys."

Snape understood Dumbledore's meaning, and rolled his eyes at the older wizard's protectiveness. "Albus, I'm _fine_. I have been teaching for two weeks, and Poppy has told me numerous times that I'm well on my way to a complete recovery."

"But not yet recovered, my boy," Dumbledore added as he peered at Severus over his glasses. "Do not think I haven't noticed you're still limping."

"For Merlin's sake, Albus!" Snape growled. "It is required that I walk on the leg so that it can regain its full strength."

"Mmm hmm…" the headmaster replied thoughtfully. "And the aching in your back? Does that require you to perform complicated spells and to be dashing about Surrey?"

Snape gaped at the older wizard, not even wanting to know how he had found out about the agony that still racked his lower back at times. Snape stood up out of his chair, fixing the wizard before him with a stern gaze. "I swear you are worse than Poppy sometimes." Snape walked back to the fireplace, intent on returning to the comfortable and _quiet_ solitude of his chambers.

"One more thing," Albus called from behind his desk.

Snape turned around, exasperated. "Yes?"

Dumbledore's face was serious again, with a touch of sadness and no sign of twinkling. "How did it feel, Severus?"

Snape breathed in deeply, his soulful eyes revealing sorrow as well. "Not nearly satisfying enough."

Dumbledore nodded solemnly. "I expected as much, my dear boy."

Severus shook his head, his mouth pressed tightly in anger. "I-I almost lost it, Albus. I almost lost control…" the younger wizard trailed off, his face now held an expression of anxiety.

Dumbledore was standing now, and moved quickly to his young wizard's side.

Snape's head was lowered, his long, dark hair blanketing his features. "There was a moment, a fleeting second when I was looking in that cupboard…" Snape raised his head to meet Dumbledore's eyes, a desperate look in his own dark depths. "Albus, the Cruciatus was on the tip of my tongue!"

Dumbledore placed a comforting hand on the wizard's shoulder, his eyes soft. "But you did _not_, Severus. You _never_ lost control because you never uttered the curse."

Snape nodded his head slowly. "But I wanted to. Merlin help me but I wanted to."

Dumbledore nodded as well, squeezing Snape's shoulder lightly. "I can most definitely imagine how tempted you were, and I do not blame you for having those thoughts."

Snape understood that his mentor was admitting that he too would have been tempted, and it made him feel much better about the situation. Less weak.

Dumbledore breathed in deeply. "Out of curiosity, what _did_ you do?"

Snape shook his head. "Nothing permanent, unfortunately. The punishments I did inflict will wear off within the next twenty-four hours, anyway," he added casually.

Dumbledore eyes widened ever so slightly. "Well, that doesn't sound too bad at all."

Snape smirked, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Yes, but I didn't tell _them_ that."

Dumbledore smiled. "Ah… yes. Very good, my boy. Very good." After a moment's pause, the headmaster added another thought. "Will you tell Harry about your dealings this evening?"

Snape looked hesitant. "I… have not yet decided."

"He was looking for you, after the Halloween feast," Dumbledore added with a twinkle.

Severus sighed deeply. "I suppose it would have to come out sooner or later."

Dumbledore grinned. "Indeed, my boy. There's no point in keeping secrets."

Snape smirked as he met his mentor's eyes suspiciously, wondering just how many secrets Albus Dumbledore kept inside that pointed hat of his.

To be continued…

*I know that in a perfect world, we would have all loved to see Snape hex that family into oblivion. However, keep in mind that we don't want our Severus to do anything that would land him in Azkaban, that's what I was thinking anyway :-) I really hope everyone enjoyed the opening chapter, and thanks to everyone for reading!


	2. Out in the Open

Chapter 2: Out in the Open

Harry Potter entered Snape's personal chambers, huffing as he dropped his books on the floor and slumped into the comfortable couch.

Snape was just exiting his library, two books in his hands, and greeted Harry with a pointed look.

A sheepish expression crossed Harry's features and, remembering his manners, he picked his books up off the floor and sat up straighter.

"Sorry, Professor, it's been a long day. I've been hanging around Ron too much, I guess," he added with a shrug as he placed his texts on the coffee table.

"Indeed," Snape replied sardonically. The Potions master then made his way toward the chair adjacent to the couch. "Weasleys," he muttered under his breath.

Harry smirked. "So, why are we meeting here for Defense lessons, sir?"

Snape smirked back, sitting down in his favorite armchair. "Because tonight, Harry, all I am requiring you to use is your brain."

Harry made a face of displeasure, as he always looked forward to Defense lessons for the physical stimulus they provided. They were an outlet for him, and he wouldn't deny the pleasure he got out of receiving praise from Professor Snape at something he was actually good at.

Severus gazed at Harry with amusement. "I realize that your brain can only hold so much information, but I am going to have to ask that you at least try."

"Oh, sod off, Professor," Harry replied teasingly.

Snape raised an eyebrow at the young wizard in a warning look, but there was amusement in his eyes as well. He then handed the books over to Harry roughly.

"Read," his deep voice commanded.

Harry sighed wistfully. "So what are _you_ going to do this whole time?"

"Besides making sure you actually do as you're told, I have my own research to attend to."

Harry watched as Snape stood and made his way into the library, closing the door behind him.

"Damn," the Boy-Who-Lived muttered to himself. He had wanted to put off reading some more by asking where his professor had been last night. Sighing again, Harry settled himself so that he was more at ease on the couch, opened the first book and began reading.

As the minutes ticked by, Harry found himself reading less and less, and letting his mind wander more so. It was times like this when he was seated comfortably in Professor Snape's quarters, having bantered with the man and feeling completely at ease, that he realized just how amazing the whole situation was. The chain of events that brought the two unlikely companions together was about as implausible as the fact that they had grown to respect each other, even care for one another.

The Boy-Who-Lived smiled to himself at the thought of his once-loathed professor, who didn't want to come within ten feet of Harry, was now only one room away, trusting the teenager with his personal space and all that was contained in it.

Harry was beginning to appreciate just how comfortable he felt as his eyes began to slowly close. He fought against the heaviness of his eyelids, trying to force himself to read more, but the want for sleep was winning the struggle. Harry's last thought before he drifted off was that he felt very warm. Somehow, even though Snape's quarters lay in the dungeons, they were always very warm.

After being in the library for thirty minutes or so, Snape had finally collected the proper notes needed for the dissertation he was planning. Upon exiting the library, the Potions master found himself rolling his eyes at a passed out wizard, strewn about on his couch.

Setting his notes down, Snape strolled over to the unconscious form of his student. Glancing down, he felt himself grow slightly irritated at the fact that the book that lay open on Harry's chest was on page number two.

"Long day, indeed," Snape muttered to himself with annoyance. He then carefully lifted the open text off of Harry's chest. With a smirk, he held the book next to Harry's head, and in one quick movement, clapped it shut.

The teenage wizard jumped up at the loud noise, scrambling to sit up on the couch.

"Hermione wasn't helping me!" Harry shouted in a half-awake stupor. Shaking his head, the teenager looked up to see Snape standing before him, arms crossed and quirking an eyebrow. "Er, I mean…" Harry sighed. "Sorry, Professor."

Snape, although managing to hide it well, was amused by the situation. Not about to let Harry in on the secret, however, his face turned to a stern expression. "Mr. Potter, perhaps you should head back up to Gryffindor Tower if you find my lessons so meaningless."

Harry looked up at Snape reproachfully. "You know I don't feel that way, sir. I'm just exhausted from the day, and your couch was way too warm and comfortable to be trying to read on."

"Perhaps you would prefer to be chained to a desk in an upright position?" Snape mused.

Harry gazed meaningfully at his professor. "I said I was sorry."

Snape sighed, his expression relaxing. "I know, Harry. Although, maybe you _should_ return to your chambers. It is obvious you won't be accomplishing anything worthwhile tonight." Snape couldn't help but chastise himself in his mind for how softhearted he was becoming in regard to the boy before him.

Harry looked down, and Severus could see the way the young boy's shoulders were tensing.

"I'd rather not go up there tonight, sir. If it's okay with you, that is."

Snape's eyes narrowed thoughtfully at the boy's anxiety. "And why not?" he questioned.

Harry blew out an irritated breath. "Ron and I got into an argument over something stupid and I don't feel like seeing him tonight."

Snape sighed tiredly as he sat down on the couch next to Harry. Like all Weasleys, Ron was not very high on Snape's list of favorite pupils… if he even made the list at all. However, the fact remained that he was Harry's best friend. So instead of commenting on the red-headed boy's lack of intelligence, Snape forced himself to remove any biting remarks from his vocabulary as he regarded Harry seriously. "I thought I noticed a tinge of bitterness when you mentioned Mr. Weasley. What happened?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders. He didn't want to tell his professor that they were arguing about him, Severus Snape, last night.

* * *

(Flashback)

Harry glanced at Snape during the Halloween feast, and noticed the man's face held an odd expression. He looked somewhat angry, but there was determination on his features more than anything. A few moments later when Harry looked to him again, Snape was rushing through the door behind the professors' table and out of sight.

When the Halloween feast had ended, all of the Gryffindors made their way to their common room to continue the party. Harry, on the other hand, made his way to the dungeons, hoping to discover what had his professor looking so troubled. When he reached Snape's quarters, however, he found them to be empty.

Curious about where Snape had gone, but knowing there was nothing he could do about it at the time, Harry decided he would question the man later and go back and join the fun in his own tower. When he entered the very loud party, he sought out Ron and Hermione.

Ron found him first.

"Hey mate!" the red-headed boy shouted over the music from a distance. When he reached Harry's side, he was able to speak at a more normal octave. "Where ya been?"

"I went to the dungeons," Harry replied simply.

"The dungeons?" Ron asked incredulously. "Why would you want to hang around in that arsepit when the party is up here?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "It's not an… _arsepit_, Ron. I was looking for Professor Snape."

Ron gave Harry an odd look. "Why?"

Harry wasn't sure what his friend was playing at, but he began to feel defensive. "What do you mean, why? I wanted to talk to him."

Ron sighed angrily. "Harry, you're _always_ with Snape. I never see you outside of class and Quidditch anymore."

Harry understood that his friend was trying to say he wanted to spend more time with him, but the Boy-Who-Lived responded with an equal bitterness despite the fact. "I have _mandatory_ classes with him, Ron. If you want to go tell Snape to let me have some more free time, then be my guest!"

Ron's eyes narrowed at the sarcasm. "It's not just the mandatory classes, Harry. You're always spending the free time you _do_ have with that git. Like tonight, we're all up here partying and having a good time and you go off looking for _Professor Snape_?"

"He's not a git, Ron," Harry began through clenched teeth. "And like I said, I needed to talk to him."

Ron sighed irritably again. "Look, I know you two had this _revelation,_ or whatever, and now you get along, and that's just great. But _I'd_ like to be able to spend some time with you, too."

With that, Ron turned away angrily leaving an equally fuming Harry to glare after him.

* * *

In retrospect, now that he wasn't in the heat of the moment, Harry realized that he had probably overreacted. He wasn't going to apologize, though, as Ron had no right to call Snape a git when he knew how much Harry respected the older wizard now.

Shaking his angry thoughts of Ron from his head, he looked back at his professor who was still waiting for an answer.

"I'd rather not talk about it right now, sir."

Snape sighed as he leaned back. "Do as you wish, Harry. However, none of your problems will be solved by hiding out in the dungeons."

Harry smirked to himself. "Speaking of 'hiding out', where did you run off to in such a hurry last night?"

Snape quirked an eyebrow at Harry's boldness, not that it should have surprised him. "And that is your business, how?"

Harry smiled. "It isn't, I guess. But the fact that you just got all defensive about it makes it all the more interesting."

Snape looked at Harry with amusement. "My, my, Mr. Potter. I see you're finally learning how to appropriately read people. How… encouraging."

A smug look crossed Harry's face as he regarded his professor. "So I'm right, it was interesting."

Snape smiled at the memories of locking Vernon in a cupboard that could barely contain him, and watching Petunia gag on an endless assault of soap bubbles.

"Very," he replied distantly.

Harry frowned. "You're not going to tell me what you did, are you?"

Snape looked at the young boy in consideration, wondering if he should tell him or not. He didn't exactly acquire the boy's permission to head off into the night and assault his relatives.

"It can't be anything _too_ private," Harry prodded further with a lopsided grin. "If it was, you would have already made that very clear, and the discussion would be over."

Snape smirked at the teenage wizard before him. Either he really was learning to understand people's behavior, or the two of them had been spending too much time together. Snape frowned at that thought, and looked back at Harry, who was now giving him the appropriately named "puppy dog look."

Snape rolled his eyes. "Oh, for Merlin's sake, Potter!"

Harry sat forward with a wide grin, hopeful he would get his answer.

Snape sighed, shaking his head at himself as he sat up straight and looked at Harry levelly. There was no point in hiding this from the boy. As he had said to Albus earlier, Harry would have to know sooner or later. Snape secretly hoped, however, that it would happen later.

"I decided to make a little trip last night. Well, I hadn't _just_ decided it… I had been thinking about it for a while."

Snape paused and Harry found himself to be more curious than ever. It seemed as though whatever his professor had done last night, he was having difficulty bringing it up again.

"Where did you go, sir?" Harry questioned quietly.

Snape took a deep breath. "I went to Surrey."

The Boy-Who-Lived paled slightly, his mouth gaping as he tried to formulate a response. That was the last place he expected his professor to have gone. "Why-why would you go there, Professor?"

Snape cleared his throat as he folded his hands in his lap neatly. "I thought it prudent that I finally meet those muggle relatives of yours."

Harry shook his head disbelievingly. "Why?" was all that he asked, but what he had wanted to question was why Snape hadn't first asked him or at the very least, let him know he was planning on going there.

Snape continued to look at Harry levelly; his dark eyes holding a calmness that he hoped would be passed on to the agitated looking teenager before him. "Harry, after all that I've seen, how could I _not_ pay them a visit?"

Harry's emerald eyes went wide and his heart started pounding in his chest. He suddenly felt mortified. He wondered what Snape had seen when he had entered that house, what exactly his professor had done. At the thought of his professor actually _seeing_ his cupboard and physically stepping foot inside his bedroom, complete with barred windows and locks on the outside of the door, Harry felt a giant wave of embarrassment wash over his body. He knew that his professor had witnessed the horrors of living in that house through Occlumency, but actually being there was so much different.

Harry stood up abruptly, his face red with humiliation and his eyes narrowed in betrayal. "You had no right to go there. You didn't even ask me!"

Snape's eyes widened slightly as Harry raised his voice. He had expected this sort of a response from the boy and had not been looking forward to it. Continuing to sit, he regarded Harry calmly.

"Sit back down, Harry."

Harry glared down at his professor; still feeling much too hot tempered and humiliated to do as he was told. "I'd rather stand, thanks," he replied defiantly, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Fine," Snape replied tersely. He was losing what little patience he had, but at the same time knew that the boy was in his own right to be angry. "I'm going to remain sitting then and let you take the leading role in this conversation. I'm sure you have questions, Harry, so ask away."

Harry wanted very badly to yell at his professor in order give the anger he felt building up inside an outlet. However, Snape was acting uncharacteristically calm, despite the fact Harry had already shouted at him. Blowing out a long breath, Harry attempted to calm himself as he spoke. "What did you see?" he asked, his words clipped with anger that he was hoping covered his mortification.

"I saw only the lower level of the house. Complete with your whale of an uncle, shrew of an aunt and idiotic cousin," Snape answered matter-of-factly.

Harry felt slightly at ease; at least his mentor had not been in his pathetic excuse for a bedroom. Harry sucked in a deep breath before asking his next question. "Did you see the cupboard?"

A pause. "I did," Snape answered carefully.

Harry's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Lovely little room, wasn't it?" he asked sarcastically.

Snape studied Harry carefully, understanding the anger the teenager felt. "I wouldn't know; perhaps you should ask your uncle."

The Boy-Who-Lived had confusion masking his features. "What?"

"Well, that was what I shoved him into. Making sure to lock the door once he was inside, of course."

Harry felt as though he had been hit over the head with a ten-foot beam. "You-you _what_?" he stammered

Severus could feel his patience fading completely. "I was unclear? My apologies then, I'm sure you know how much I enjoy repeating myself. I locked your fat, idiot uncle into the cupboard he once forced you to inhabit." The last sentence was spoken slowly, as though he was explaining it to a baby.

Harry was completely lost in his thoughts; so much so that he felt no anger at the demeaning way his professor was speaking to him. His mouth opened and closed several times in disbelief before his wide, emerald eyes looked over to meet those of his mentor.

"_Why_?"

Severus was taken aback by the complete confusion that was etched on the boy's face. "Why, Harry?" Snape could feel his calm demeanor fading at the openness the teenager was showing him. The boy was actually mystified as to why Snape would have wanted revenge on that terrible family? The professor stood up, standing before the wide-eyed wizard, with incredulity echoing in the depth of his eyes. "I have witnessed practically first-hand all of the unspeakable acts that man has committed against you and you dare ask me _why_?" he seethed.

Harry was now shaking his head miserably, his eyes lowering in what appeared to be shame. "You didn't have to do that," he said quietly.

"Of course I didn't, you foolish boy!" Snape's hands tightened into fists at his side in an attempt to get control over himself. Harry was still looking down, and Snape realized that he truly had no reason to be shouting at the young wizard. Taking a deep breath, he placed a hand on the teenager's shoulder. "The fury I feel towards your relatives when we practice Occlumency is unlike any anger I've ever felt before." Snape spoke softly, and he squeezed Harry's shoulder to strengthen the meaning of his next sentence. "It's because I care for you, Harry, that I went there last night. To give those muggles what was a long time coming, and to give myself some bloody peace of mind."

Harry's sad green eyes looked up to meet his professor's sincere gaze. "I'm sorry, Professor Snape. I'm just-I'm not used to having someone stand up for me, I guess," he finished with a shrug.

Snape's hand remained on Harry's shoulder, still grasping it in a comforting manner. "You have no reason to be apologizing, Harry. As I've said before, you are not used to having someone care for you. I understand it will take some time to get used to; I myself am having difficulty accepting-"

Snape was cut off as the teenage wizard took one step forward and wrapped his arms around the professor's torso. Harry was squeezing the older wizard very tightly, and Snape returned the embrace whole-heartedly.

"-the fact," Severus finished as he directed a small smile at the mop of unruly hair that rested below his chin.

Harry's cheek rested against Snape's chest as he started speaking. "I didn't ever want you to see that place. To meet those people."

Snape sighed as he carded a hand through the teenager's dark hair soothingly. "I'm sorry, Harry. I should have asked you first, or at least given you a warning."

Snape paused and Harry nodded against him in agreement.

"I won't apologize for what I did, however," the professor continued seriously. "Those muggles had it coming, and if I do say so myself, it was simply too much fun."

Harry looked up to meet his mentor's eyes. "I can't believe you locked my uncle in that cupboard," he said with a grin.

Snape smirked. "Believe it."

Harry continued to smile, shaking his head in disbelief. "I'm almost afraid to ask, but what happened to Aunt Petunia?"

The professor looked as though he were deep in thought before replying. "I imagine she's still coughing up soap bubbles as we speak."

Harry's eyes went wide in response, and Snape smiled devilishly before continuing his thought.

"I'd say it's a vast improvement over the garbage that's typically spewing from that woman's mouth."

Harry started laughing at the remark, and Snape let a small smile of satisfaction cross his features.

After his laughter had subsided, Harry was surprised when a huge yawn left his mouth. He looked to Professor Snape with a sheepish grin. "Well, I should probably head to bed. Another long day tomorrow," he finished with a sigh.

"Filled with avoiding your best friend, no doubt," Snape added with a smirk.

Harry frowned. "I'm not avoiding him… I just don't feel like talking to him right now."

Snape quirked an eyebrow at the young wizard before him. "Mr. Potter, would you like to borrow a dictionary so that you can look up the definition of 'avoid'?"

Harry glared in response, but his face showed amusement. "Good night, sir," he replied as he gathered his supplies and headed toward the room that was now deemed his own.

Snape blew out a breath as he watched the teenager leave. What he wanted to say was on the tip of his tongue, but for some reason, he was having difficulty spitting it out. Forcing himself to get over whatever was holding him back, he began speaking. "One more thing, Harry."

When the Boy-Who-Lived turned around with an expectant look, Severus continued. "I know that you take certain… precautions when you are sleeping in the Gryffindor chambers to avoid disturbing others." Snape paused, and Harry began to look sheepish. "I just wanted to let you know that you… well, you don't have to take such precautions here." Snape finished his last sentence quickly, and held his breath as he waited for a response. Why those words were so hard for him to spit out, he couldn't begin to fathom.

Harry nodded in understanding, a smile of genuine appreciation on his face. "Thank you, sir. Goodnight."

Snape nodded as well. "Goodnight," he called back.

* * *

Severus Snape was in his own room, changing out of his clothes as he prepared to end the day. As he threw his cloak haphazardly onto a chair, his eyes caught a colorful piece of paper on his bureau. He picked up the drawing of Hogwarts and its professors, and gazed at it for a long time. Placing it back down on his dresser, Severus climbed into bed and fell asleep with a small smile on his lips.

To be continued…

A/N: Beta-ed by Sindie


	3. Choking on the Remedy

Chapter 3: Choking on the Remedy

Harry Potter's eyes blinked open, only to be greeted by more darkness. The teenage wizard's breath caught in his throat, and for one panic-stricken moment he couldn't figure out where he was. As he gulped in some much needed air, everything came back to him in a comforting wave. He was safe, and he was sleeping in his room connected to Snape's quarters.

Harry sat up, scrubbing his face as he recalled his nightmare. It was a rather bad, but then again, they always were. Voldemort had captured both himself and Ron, and proceeded to torture Ron while Harry was helpless to stop him. As the Boy-Who-Lived got out of bed and headed toward the bathroom, he figured his dream was just his conscience telling him to make up with his best friend.

Harry made his way into the lavatory, walked to the sink and turned the cold water on. As he leaned over the basin and began splashing the refreshing liquid over his face, he paused his actions when he thought he heard a peculiar noise. Turning off the faucet, he wiped his face with a towel when he heard the noise again. Harry swallowed nervously as he realized the sound was coming from Professor Snape's room.

Harry wasn't stupid, but he felt that way as he inched his way down the hallway, the door to his professor's room in view. He told himself he really shouldn't even be _thinking_about going in there, but the courageous part of his Gryffindor mind was telling him he needed to investigate. As he leaned his ear against the hard mahogany of the door, he heard what sounded like mumbling coming from within. Summoning all the bravery he could, Harry slowly turned the door handle and entered his professor's room as quietly as possible.

Professor Snape was mumbling in his sleep, occasionally tossing as he did. It was clear to Harry the older wizard was having a nightmare of his own, and the Boy-Who-Lived found he was not surprised. He was sure Snape had witnessed enough horrors to warrant hundreds of nightmares; especially after the torture he received not too long ago. In fact, the man was probably more than used to having them. Despite that fact, Harry knew he should wake his mentor up, as he was already approaching the bed anyway. The room was almost completely pitch black, and Harry stumbled a bit as he reached his professor's side.

Swallowing nervously again, Harry spoke.

"Professor Snape?" he questioned in barely a whisper.

That was all it took, however, and before Harry knew what was happening, there was a hand crushing his throat and a wand being pointed directly between his eyes. Harry stared cross-eyed at the tip of the wand as he clawed at the iron grip around his neck. He couldn't breathe, let alone speak to tell his professor who he was. He could feel Snape's heavy breathing across his face and could imagine the dangerous look that was on his professor's face. Whatever Snape had been dreaming, the teenage wizard figured it wasn't over in his professor's mind.

Harry was beginning to feel lightheaded, and as a last resort he reached into his pocket for his own wand. He knew he wouldn't be able to speak the incantation, but he thought it, he thought about it in his head harder than he had ever thought about anything. His concentration paid off as the tip of his wand lit up, and he quickly raised it so that it was between their faces. Harry watched as his professor's dilated pupils shrunk, and his expression of fury quickly changed to confusion, and then to horror.

"Potter?" Snape whispered in shock, releasing his hold on Harry's neck immediately.

The teenage wizard found himself on his knees, rubbing his neck and gasping for air. His throat was making horrible gagging noises as he tried to breathe, and he soon felt the presence of his mentor kneeling next to him, a warm hand on his back.

"Breathe, Harry, _breathe_… Don't think about the pain, focus on each breath."

The Boy-Who-Lived felt his professor's other hand on his chest now, applying a light pressure and then releasing it in time with his words. Harry wasn't sure why or how his professor's method was working, but as he found himself focusing on what he was told, his breaths began to come and go easier.

The wand in Harry's hand was still illuminated, and he could see the worry in his mentor's eyes. The teenager suddenly felt very foolish. Snape might have killed him just then, all because Harry felt he had to "play the hero".

Snape's hand then slid from Harry's back to his shoulder, squeezing it. "Are you all right?" he asked softly.

Harry nodded quickly, and Snape blew out a breath.

"Merlin, Harry." Snape shook his head as he stood, offering his hand to Harry.

Harry grabbed the older wizard's hand and pulled himself to his feet. "I'm-I'm sorry, Professor." His voice cracked with strain as he spoke, making his already pathetic response sound lamer.

Snape's eyes narrowed in anger now that the danger of the situation had passed. "Tell me, Harry. What instruction did I give you when you first set foot in my chambers?"

Harry inwardly winced at the edge that laced his professor's tone. He was in for it now. "Not to go into your room," Harry answered, his voice still weak.

Snape crossed his arms and glared at the teenager before him. "Not to go into my room…?" he trailed off, waiting for Harry to finish.

Harry sighed. "Unless I want to meet my untimely, and excruciating, death."

Severus nodded thoughtfully. "Then that leads me to my next question, Mr. Potter."

Harry swallowed as his professor leaned in closer, his expression dangerous.

"What the bloody hell are you doing here?" Snape whispered heatedly.

Harry was wringing his hands anxiously. "I-I was in the bathroom, and, umm, and I heard noises-"

"What kind of noises?" Snape cut in as he stepped closer to Harry.

"Um, I, uh," Harry continued to stammer, feeling put off by the anger his professor was aiming at him.

"Out with it!" Snape commanded.

"Mumbling, sir! You were mumbling in your sleep and I figured you must have been having a nightmare, so I came to check on you."

Harry took a deep breath, as his professor seemed to be considering his words. The two wizards made eye contact again, and Snape did not look pleased.

"How lucky I am to have the Boy-Who-Lived throw caution to the wind, right along with my _explicit_ instruction, so that I could be saved from my nightmares."

Harry stepped backward slowly, but not because his professor was advancing on him. The anger and sarcasm in Snape's voice was indisputable, and it was terrifying. He felt the door against his back then, and he was more than tempted to leave immediately. However, he knew that no matter how angry his professor was, he would never harm him. So Harry stood his ground a little longer, intent on explaining himself.

"Professor, I'm sorry. It's just that, well, you've been helping me with _my_ nightmares, and I… well, I figured…"

"You thought you could return the favor, did you, Potter?" Snape offered, his tone demeaning.

Harry could only nod in response, afraid of what was to come.

Snape stepped closer to Harry again, their faces now only inches apart. "Did it ever occur to that thick, Gryffindor head of yours that I don't need any help? That maybe there was a reason I told you _never_ to come in here?" Snape felt his heart start beating faster now, and his voice rose because of it. "Do you have _any_ idea-? Do you realize how close-? I could have…" he trailed off, not daring to voice the thought that was terrifying him to his core.

"Sir?" Harry questioned softly, his concern for his professor evident.

"Get out, Potter," Snape whispered as he turned away.

Harry hesitated a moment too long, however, and Snape whirled back around.

"Get out!" he shouted angrily, slamming the door behind an alarmed Harry Potter.

The Boy-Who-Lived retreated to his own room in record time, panting heavily as he closed the door. To say he was confused would be putting it lightly. He understood that Snape was angry he disobeyed what were supposed to be very clear, not to mention easy to follow, instructions, but did his professor really expect him to ignore the desperate noises that were coming from his room?

Harry crawled back into his bed with a thousand questions in his mind. He knew he would not be sleeping anymore that night, and he tried to find a comfortable position to spend his night pondering.

* * *

It was about an hour later when he heard knocking on his door.

"Come in," Harry called as he sat up in his bed.

Professor Snape entered the room, his expression giving away the guilt he felt.

"I saw the light under your door, so I figured you must still be awake," Snape commented as he approached the bed.

Harry nodded in response, meeting his professor's gaze as the older wizard now stood at his side. After a moment, the Boy-Who-Lived looked away, and an awkward silence ensued. He began picking at a loose thread on his quilt, a frown lining his features.

"What's on your mind, Potter?" Snape asked from above.

"_My mind? You're the one who came into my room_," is what Harry wanted to say, but he decided against it. "Sir, would you mind not hovering over me? You're making me nervous."

Snape huffed and sat down on the edge of Harry's bed so that they were facing each other. "Is that better?"

Harry nodded before meeting his mentor's eyes again now that they were at the same level. "I _am_ sorry, Professor Snape. I shouldn't have disobeyed your orders, but-"

Harry was cut off as Snape held up a hand to stop him.

"Despite what you may be thinking, Harry, I did not come in here to make you apologize to me for a second time. In addition, I do understand why you felt it necessary to come into my room. What with your foolhardy Gryffindor way of thinking and all." Snape paused and gave Harry a small smile to help lighten the mood, and to hopefully rid the boy of the look of misery that currently covered his face. The young wizard gave a small nod and smiled back, and Snape scooted a little closer. "I wanted to make sure you really _are_ okay," he finished sincerely.

Harry waved his professor off. "I'm fine, really, sir."

Snape nodded thoughtfully, and Harry could still see the worry and guilt in his professor's dark eyes.

"You don't have to feel bad, Professor. I know you didn't mean to do it," Harry added meaningfully.

"No, I did not," Snape sighed tiredly. "However, the fact remains that it _did_ happen. And I… well, I remember witnessing your uncle performing the same act on you countless-"

Harry stopped his mentor by placing a hand on the older wizard's forearm. The Boy-Who-Lived looked at his professor seriously, now understanding the main reason the other man looked so guilty. "I could _never_ mistake you for him, sir."

Snape looked back at the young wizard thoughtfully, not quite being able to voice how much that statement meant to him. Swallowing thickly, he scooted even closer. "Let me take a look, Harry."

Harry inwardly panicked a little. He had already assessed the damage himself, and the bruising was quite bad. He tried to dismiss his professor's attention, not wanting the man to feel guiltier.

"I'm fine, sir, really. You don't have to-"

Snape ignored the statement as he muttered "_Lumos_" and gently grabbed Harry's chin. Using one hand to turn the boy's head to the side, his other held up the illuminated wand to inspect Harry's neck more closely than the candlelight in the room would allow. The professor inhaled sharply at what he saw. There were dark blue bruises forming where his long fingers had grasped Harry's neck. He felt more guilt wash over him as he gently brushed the contusions with his fingertips - the injuries his own hands had caused.

Harry couldn't help but wince, despite how gentle his professor was being. His neck felt very tender, and he hoped the older wizard wasn't beating himself up too badly for it. After all, it was Harry who made the mistake of going into the one room he was told never to enter.

Severus noticed the boy's grimace, and found that he was not surprised in the least by it. He had figured the wounds would be bad, which was why he had enough sense to stop in his lab before coming to see Harry. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a jar of healing salve, the very same kind he treated Harry with when he discovered the injuries the boy's uncle had caused. He unscrewed the cap and set about tending to the boy's injuries when Harry held up his own hands in protest.

"I can do that, sir. You don't have to," Harry said sincerely.

Snape looked back at the young wizard levelly. "I'm perfectly aware that you can, Harry. However, it was my hands that caused this, and I intend on making up for it."

Harry smiled appreciatively, understanding that Professor Snape needed to do this. The older wizard wasn't about to leave Harry to tend to his wounds the way his uncle had done time and time again. Harry closed his eyes and relaxed as he felt the cooling sensation of the cream quickly overpower the slight pain he felt when it was first applied. He then felt Snape's warm hand grasp his chin lightly again to turn his head the other way, so that the remaining part of his neck could be healed.

The Boy-Who-Lived didn't think he'd ever get used to the feeling of having someone care for him, but with an insistent Severus Snape at his side, he found he didn't have too much trouble resigning himself to the comfort of it.

Severus watched with relief as the major discoloration began to fade, leaving a more yellow colored appearance. Capping the jar closed, he regarded a content looking Harry Potter.

"The discoloration should fade completely in an hour or so." Harry nodded in response, and Snape met the teenager's eyes once again. "How does it feel?"

"Much better, sir," Harry replied truthfully.

Snape nodded before his tone became serious once again. "Harry, I don't give you instructions simply to hear the sound of my own voice."

The teenager felt embarrassment wash over him before he became defensive. "I know, Professor. But I couldn't just ignore you. You sounded miserable," he added sadly.

Severus shook his head. "They're just dreams, Harry."

Harry gave his professor a pointed look. "Why is it that with you they're 'just dreams', but with me you want to be alerted immediately and be there to help me?"

"Because _my_ mind is not directly connected to the Dark Lord's, foolish boy," Snape answered a little too harshly.

Harry's eyes widened a little, feeling even more humiliated. How had he managed to forget _that_ miniscule detail? "_Probably because I was too worried about Snape_," Harry told himself. As he felt the heat rise from his flushed cheeks, all he could do was nod in response.

Snape sighed, placing a hand on the dejected looking teenager before him. "My nightmares cannot hurt me, Harry. Yours, on the other hand, are quite capable of doing just that. I understand that you only wanted to help, though. Which is why I have chosen to forgive you, rather than subject you to that untimely and excruciating demise we talked about." Severus finished his words lightly, favoring the wizard before him with a grin.

Harry nodded his head, a lopsided grin on his features. "You could have warned me you sleep with your wand under your pillow, you know."

Severus rolled his eyes. "You should have expected it, Potter."

Harry smirked. "Right, Professor."

Snape smiled back, and turned to leave when another thought crossed his mind. "Oh, and ten points will be awarded to Gryffindor," he added.

Harry's brow knitted in confusion. "Sir?"

Snape turned around, a proud expression on his face as he met the teenager's eyes. "For that display of a nonverbal spell you showed back there. Well done, Harry."

Harry felt a large smile spreading across his face. It was amazing how much one look of pride from Professor Snape could inflate his ego. "Thank you, Professor."

Snape nodded, before turning on his heel and exiting the bedroom.

After Harry had extinguished the candles in his room and laid his head down to finally sleep, he found himself drifting off quite easily with a large grin on his face.

* * *

"Really, Ronald! If you keep that up, you're going to weigh four hundred pounds by the time you graduate!"

The red-haired Gryffindor responded to Hermione's chastising by shoving four more pieces of bacon into his mouth and then smiling at her widely so that she could see his half-chewed food up close and personal.

A look of disgust covered Hermione's face, and she looked away in time to see Harry approaching the table looking rather apprehensive.

"Hi, Harry!" the bushy-haired girl called pleasantly. She knew all about the argument her two friends had the other day, and was intent on having them make up immediately.

At Hermione's greeting, Ron lifted his head from his plate to watch sheepishly as his friend approached.

"Hi, Hermione," Harry replied with a smile as he took a seat across from his two friends. After sitting, his eyes slowly moved to meet Ron's, and the two quickly looked away from each other.

Hermione noticed the exchange, and blew out an irritated breath. She knew that neither of them wanted to be mad at each other, but they were both too stubborn to make the first move.

"Ron, tell Harry you're sorry."

The red-headed boy choked on some eggs in surprise at her bold statement. Sputtering, he managed to swallow the huge bite he had taken. "_Me_? Why should I have to apologize first?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Because you were the one who started the argument. Therefore, if you hadn't opened your big mouth, there wouldn't have been a disagreement in the first place."

Harry couldn't help but smile at Hermione's tactics. He made his grin disappear, however, when Ron begrudgingly looked his way.

"M'sorry, mate," Ron said quietly.

"What are you sorry for, Ronald?" Hermione beseeched.

Ron sighed exasperatedly before looking to Harry again. "I shouldn't have called Snape a "git", and I shouldn't have made you feel bad for not being able to be around as much."

Harry couldn't hide the smile that spread across his face at his friend's words. He had the distinct impression that this had been something Hermione had made Ron rehearse.

Ron looked sheepish again, before his face turned into an expression of amusement as well. "So do you forgive me?" he asked.

Harry laughed. "Yes, Ron, I forgive you. And I'm sorry I haven't been around much."

Ron smiled back at his friend. "It's okay, mate. I know you've got a lot on your plate."

"It seems as though he isn't the only one," Hermione said, smiling as she gestured towards the towering dish of food in front of Ron.

Harry snorted, and Ron grinned before shrugging and continuing to shove forkful after forkful of food into his mouth.

Only a couple of tables away, Professor Snape smiled to himself as he watched the scene that unfolded at the Gryffindor table. Conveniently taking a sip of his tea in order to hide his amusement, he found himself admiring the young Ms. Granger's forwardness. She really was a bright young witch, that girl.

"May I inquire as to what is so humorous?"

Severus turned to look at Albus, whose eyes happened to be twinkling more than usual.

"May I inquire as to why you're pretending you don't know?"

Dumbledore grinned at the younger wizard's pointed look. "Fair enough, my boy. I actually have a request."

"Yes?" Snape asked expectantly.

"There is something of importance I wish to discuss with you. Perhaps before your afternoon Potions lesson?"

Severus nodded. "Very well, Albus."

Dumbledore smiled kindly. "I shall see you then, Severus."

Professor Snape watched as Albus took his leave, before turning his attention back to the antics that were taking place at the Gryffindor table.

To be continued…

A/N: Beta-ed by Sindie


	4. Inquiries and Apologies

Chapter 4: Inquiries and Apologies

Severus Snape strolled down the corridor that would take him to the headmaster's office. He had purposefully detained himself before meeting with Albus, so that he could use the fact that his lesson would soon be starting to excuse himself, if need be.

When he found himself face-to-face with the gargoyle statue, he breathed a sigh.

"I swear Albus thinks up these passwords to torture me," he mumbled under his breath. Rolling his eyes, he glared at the ugly stone face of the statue. "Galloping Gorgons," he spoke very clearly, and the spiral staircase began to rise.

Upon entering the headmaster's office, Severus noted that there was a cup of tea waiting for him at his usual spot.

"Ah, Severus, glad you could finally join me," Albus remarked as he stood. "Come, have a seat, although I'm afraid your tea may be cold."

Nodding, Severus walked forward, taking a seat across from his mentor. "I apologize, Albus. I was… detained." The Potions master inwardly winced at his vague excuse.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled over his spectacles. "Indeed," he replied with a smile. "Not to worry, my dear boy, I won't keep you long."

Snape taped his teacup with his wand, effectively warming the contents to the point where steam was once again rising from the liquid. "What is this concerning, Albus?" Snape inquired before taking a sip from the cup.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "I believe I have found the location of the next Horcrux, my boy."

Snape's eyes went wide, and he leaned forward rather ungracefully as he sputtered and choked on his tea.

Dumbledore's eyes widened as well. "Oh, my, are you all right?"

"Yes, I'm fine," Snape bit back, brushing spilt tea off of his waistcoat. Meeting his mentor's eyes again, his own gaze hardened. "Which one?"

The headmaster's grin returned as he spoke. "Marvolo Gaunt's ring."

Severus breathed in deeply, his face serious. "Do not do anything rash, Albus. I do not yet have any proof that item is a Horcrux."

Dumbledore nodded, raising his hands in an appeasing manner. "Yes, yes, I know, my boy. But the fact that I have found its location is quite exciting," he stated joyfully.

Severus continued to gaze at his mentor firmly, the same look he used on students who considered goofing around in his classroom.

"Do not worry, Severus. I am planning on taking a trip soon to retrieve the item, but I will not tamper with it. I will only bring it back for safe keeping so that someone else does not accidentally come across it."

Snape wanted to use Legilimency quite badly at that moment, to be assured Albus Dumbledore was telling the truth. While the older wizard was not one to lie, he had certainly told half-truths in the past in order to do what he thought was necessary.

"I still think it is unwise," Snape muttered.

"I disagree," Dumbledore replied pleasantly as he looked at Severus, his stare unwavering.

After a few moments, Snape let out a breath as he surrendered to the older wizard's wishes.

"Fine, Albus, bring the ring back here. But make sure you don't accidentally drop it; in fact, do not even _touch_ it until I have had the opportunity to inspect it."

Dumbledore smiled widely. "I wouldn't dream of it, my boy."

Severus sighed, giving his mentor a pointed look as he stood.

"It is more than likely very dangerous."

Dumbledore nodded. "Understood," he replied before taking a sip of his own tea. Setting down the cup, his blue eyes rose to meet Snape's once again. "And how are you feeling today, Severus?"

Snape was thrown off by the older wizard's sudden change of topic, and he watched as his mentor gestured toward his injured leg.

"It's fine, Albus. I'm walking, aren't I?"

"Is it causing you any pain?"

"I can deal with it."

"I'm quite certain you can, my boy, but that's not what I asked."

Severus glared at his mentor. "Yes, it is still causing pain. However, it is minimal and nothing I can't handle."

"Hmm…" Albus replied thoughtfully. It was against his better judgment to believe Severus Snape on matters concerning the younger wizard's health. "Perhaps I should schedule another appointment with Poppy…"

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance. "Merlin help me, Albus-"

"It would be for the best, my boy. It's most important that you have a follow through as you are healing. Wouldn't want anything to go wrong, now would we?"

Snape scowled at the twinkling emanating from his mentor's eyes. "If that is all," he forced out through clenched teeth.

"Quite, my boy. Enjoy the rest of your day, and I'll let you know when you are to see Madam Pomfrey."

The Potions master nodded curtly, wanting nothing more that to pull his own hair out in aggravation. He walked quickly out of the headmaster's office and had made it halfway back to his classroom before he stopped dead in his tracks.

"That conniving old man," he said unbelievingly to himself.

Snape scowled as he realized Albus' clever tactic. The older wizard had effectively silenced his protest by distracting him, making him forget about the planned Horcrux retrieval and his anxiety along with it.

Letting out an irritated breath, and hoping Albus would be true to his word, Severus made his way to teach his Potions lesson.

* * *

Professor Snape scanned the sea of students in his classroom with distaste. He had assigned a simple reading assignment for the time being, and each pupil looked as though they were about to pass out with boredom. Many had their heads in their hands as they read, and he noted one individual in the back whose head kept bobbing as she tried desperately to remain awake.

One of the few students who was actually sitting up straight and reading along quickly was Harry Potter. Snape smirked to himself, as he realized this was probably the boy's way of making up for falling asleep the other day when he was supposed to be reading in Snape's chambers.

Only being a few feet away, Severus looked carefully at Harry. He had not seen the teenager since breakfast, and they were much too far away for him to get a good look at the young wizard's neck. The Potions master was relieved to see that there was no sign of bruising, or any indication at all of what had happened the previous night. Severus was glad for that, but could not manage to shake the guilt he felt over it. He had accidentally acted just as that brute of an uncle did many times over to the boy, and Snape couldn't help but be amazed at Harry's strength. The boy didn't mistake him for his uncle, not even for a moment, and it gave Severus hope that the teenager was not permanently traumatized from living with that Muggle bastard.

It was then, that out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a student whose head was on the desk and was clearly sleeping. Severus scowled as he turned to approach the student. Who ever _dared_ fall asleep in his class had better be prepared to deal with the consequences.

His eyebrows just about shot up to the ceiling as he realized the slumbering student was none other than Miss Hermione Granger. As he approached the young witch, he thought carefully about how to approach the situation.

Ron Weasley lifted his head from his reading as he felt the Potions master's approach, and paled as he realized one of his best friends was sleeping next to him. Professor Snape had a mischievous smirk on his face as he stepped closer, and Ron knew that did not bode well for his sleeping friend. Hurriedly, he nudged Hermione with his elbow, and she began to slowly lift her head.

Hermione blinked the sleep out of her eyes as her head of bushy-hair lifted off the desk. When her vision cleared, she found herself focused on the black, button up waistcoat of her professor right in front of her eyes. Swallowing nervously, she lifted her wide eyes to be greeted with the smug look of Professor Snape.

"Ms. Granger," his deep voice came out with a note of surprise to it. "I never thought I'd see the day, and now that it has arrived," he leaned closer to the young witch with a devious grin, "I'm _ecstatic_."

Hermione swallowed again, her eyes full of fear. "I'm, I'm very sorry, sir-"

"Save it, young lady. Be sure that you remain after class," he added coolly as he walked away from her desk.

"Ooooh," a familiar Slytherin voice from the back taunted. "Granger's finally caught in the act."

A chorus of Slytherin's joined Malfoy in laughter before one intense glare from Professor Snape silenced them immediately.

"Several of you are within an inch of joining Ms. Granger. I suggest you focus on your reading and _not_ on your eyelids." Snape continued to glare at his class as he took a seat behind his desk.

Hermione looked as though she was about to cry, and Snape found Harry giving him a pointed look. Severus' lips quirked with amusement in response, quickly enough that only Harry would have noticed. The Boy-Who-Lived gave a quick nod of understanding, lowering his head so that others wouldn't be able to notice the amusement that now lined his face.

Severus watched as Draco then leaned over to Goyle and began whispering. Professor Snape felt his blood boil with anger as he made out the word "Mudblood" on Malfoy's lips. He felt his body twitch with the desire to stroll over to the blonde-haired Slytherin and bring his ego down a few notches. He forced himself to take a deep breath, however, and calm himself. Draco knew of Voldemort's plan for him to get close to Harry, but to publicly humiliate the Slytherin in order to defend Ms. Granger's honor? Severus knew that would be over the top, and would very well risk displaying his true allegiance to the dangerous people he rubbed elbows with.

Sighing to himself in defeat, for the time being, Professor Snape continued through the rest of his lesson.

* * *

"I'm _so_ sorry, Professor! I never meant to fall asleep in your class! It's just that, well, today's lesson was a little bit slower than usual- not that it was boring! Oh, I _definitely_didn't mean that! But I've been so overworked and I haven't been getting much sleep and Harry and Ron are _constantly_ pestering me to help them and I try to tell them that I simply don't have the time…"

Snape's mind was whirling as the girl continued to prattle on and on. As she rambled, he had been trying to get her attention by raising his hand in a stopping motion and opening his mouth to get a word in edgewise, but it was no use. Sighing in exasperation, he decided to do what had always gotten the Gryffindor's attention in the past.

"Ms. Granger!"

Hermione immediately closed her mouth, a wide-eyed look of anticipation in her eyes.

Snape closed his eyes and took a deep breath, relishing in the sudden silence that surrounded him. When he opened them again, Hermione had her mouth parted as though she were about to speak again.

"No! Not _another_ word!" Snape commanded almost fearfully.

Hermione nodded her head slowly, waiting for the inevitable barrage of insults and the punishment that would be to follow. She knew that Professor Snape wasn't the unfair and impatient git to the Golden Trio that he used to be, but falling asleep in class was _definitely_ a punishable offense.

Snape sighed deeply once more before speaking in a low, gentle tone. "Ms. Granger, I have no doubt that you are exhaustibly busy. If I'm not mistaken, that is typical behavior for you. As well as taking your schoolwork very seriously, and I… I commend you for that."

Hermione felt as though she were about to faint. Her wide eyes met her professor's gaze and her mouth was gaping in amazement.

"Th-thank you, Pr-"

"I'm not finished," Snape cut in matter-of-factly with a pointed look. "I did not ask you to stay after to condemn you for your mistake. Although, it did provide me with the perfect chance to speak with you alone…" Snape trailed off, unsure of how to possibly voice what he was thinking.

Hermione was beyond curious at this point. She wasn't here to be reprimanded? And in fact, Professor Snape had complimented her! Like a wide-eyed cat, she stepped closer to the man who was clearly having a problem with what he wanted to say.

"Professor?" she asked quietly.

Snape exhaled before looking down at the teenager before him. "Ms. Granger… it seems as though I… I owe you an apology."

Hermione breathed in sharply, her eyes growing wider, if at all possible.

"A little over a month ago when you came to me with concern over Harry, I believe I spoke out of turn. I never should have raised my voice in such a manner, and I certainly regretted making you upset…"

Hermione couldn't control the tears that were welling up in her eyes at the moment. She feared she might lose control very soon, and they would be spilling down her face.

Snape looked at her eyes with curiosity, very fearful himself that the girl was going to start crying again. Still, he wasn't finished with what he promised himself he'd say.

"Ms. Granger, you are a very bright young lady, and I've treated you unfairly many times over the years. I hope that you can accept… my apology, and know that I will not single you out in the way I have been known to do before." Snape breathed a sigh of relief as he managed to spit out the words that had been haunting him for a while.

Hermione couldn't remember the last time she'd felt so happy. The tall, dark, intimidating Potions professor before her had just asked _her_ for forgiveness, and he had complimented her in the process! As she felt her tears brim over the edge of her eyelids, Hermione lost control of rational thought and threw herself at the wizard.

"Oh, Professor!"

Snape was momentarily knocked off of his footing as the young girl threw her arms around him, but he managed to save himself from toppling over. Confused, and a little irritated, he looked down with a shocked expression at the sobbing girl who was latched onto him. Severus stood awkwardly with his arms at his side as the girl continued to cry on him, effectively wetting his waistcoat. He slowly lifted his hands and attempted to return the embrace several times, feeling beyond self-conscious. Finally, after realizing how ridiculous he was being, he wrapped his arms firmly around the young witch's shoulders.

As the teenager continued to sob onto him, Snape decided to voice his confusion.

"Ms. Granger, did I… say something regrettable?"

The uncertainty was evident in his voice, and Hermione began shaking her head.

"Oh, no, sir," she commented back, smiling up at him through teary eyes. "That was one of the nicest things I've ever heard!"

Snape huffed as the girl squeezed him even harder, burying her face in his shirt once again. "_Blasted, emotional,_confusing_Gryffindors_," the Potions master thought to himself. His irritation was only half-hearted, however, as a small smile graced his lips as he held the elated young woman before him.

After another few moments had passed, and Hermione began to gather her senses, her eyes took on a bit of an apprehensive look. As she slowly backed away, she was almost positive she saw a smile on her professor's face, but it was gone in a flash.

"Oh… oh, Professor Snape, I'm so sorry. I-I don't know what came over me."

Snape raised a hand in a placating manner, his expression gentle. "Think nothing of it, Ms. Granger."

Hermione gave him a wide smile, and he nodded in response.

"You are free to leave now. Go off and enjoy the rest of your day," Snape commented as he moved to sit behind his desk.

Hermione continued to smile widely as she gathered her things. "Thanks, Professor," she replied as she made her way to the exit.

"Oh, and Ms. Granger?" Snape called from his desk.

Hermione had almost reached the door but turned around to face him again. "Sir?"

Snape smirked as he regarded the joyful young witch. "Do try to appear more downtrodden; I have my reputation to keep."

Hermione smirked back, before lowering her head and frowning. "Yes, sir," she replied in mock sadness, before walking into the corridor looking dejected.

When the door closed behind her, Snape couldn't help but let out a chuckle.

"Gryffindors," he sighed, shaking his head with a smile.

To be continued...

A/N: Beta-ed by Sindie


	5. Disquieting Revelation

Chapter 5: Disquieting Revelation

"Let's find out if you really have been learning anything, or if you just got lucky."

Harry looked to his mentor quizzically. "Sir?"

Professor Snape grinned. "Illuminate your wand, Potter, without speaking."

Harry swallowed apprehensively, before nodding his head and holding his wand out before him. As he focused all of his attention on trying to light his wand, he could feel his professor's eyes boring into the side of his head. For some reason, the opportunity to prove himself had become terrifying. He didn't want to let down Professor Snape; he knew he could do this. For Merlin's sake, he'd just accomplished it the night before! Why was it so difficult now? Why couldn't he-?

"Stop_that_."

Harry jumped at his professor's words, his eyes leaving his wand and looking to the older wizard in confusion.

"What?"

Snape sighed as he stepped closer to the boy. "If you are worried about pleasing me and fretting over the fact that you've done this before, you are not _completely_ focusing on the task at hand. Are you, Harry?"

"How did you know-?" Harry shook his head at the stupidity of what he was about to ask. "Never mind," he muttered.

Snape smirked and stepped another foot closer to Harry, so that he was now in the teenager's personal space. "If you can accomplish this with me literally breathing down your neck, I fail to see how intimidation could thwart your attempts in the future."

Harry nodded, turning his full attention back to his wand. First, he made his mind go blank. He removed all of the thoughts of failure and the annoying chattering that seemed to go with it. There was an empty blackness in his head now, where the only thing he felt was a slight tingling sensation that had vanished so quickly, he wasn't sure if it had been there at all. Staring at his wand, his mind began chanting "_Lumos_" over and over again, just as he had the other night. After the fifth time, his wand began to dimly glow. Focusing more intently and refusing to let his mind wander with excitement just yet, he continued to concentrate. It was only a moment later that his wand began to shine with brilliance, and Harry was able to relax as he had achieved his task. Letting out a breath and smiling at his accomplishment, he felt Snape squeeze his shoulder.

"Excellent, Harry. You did everything correctly," the Potions master complimented with a smile.

Harry felt his self-esteem raise a considerable amount with those few spoken words. The look of pride from Professor Snape that accompanied them certainly added to the feeling, as well. "Thank you, sir," Harry beamed, looking at his illuminated wand once more.

"It is quite promising that my entering your mind did not deter your focus, Harry. Were you aware of my presence?"

Harry smirked. "I was sure I felt something, but continued to focus despite the fact."

Professor Snape nodded thoughtfully, something akin to amusement in his eyes. "You do realize, Potter, that you just successfully performed Occlumency as well?"

Harry stepped back in surprise, his mouth gaping. "No way."

Severus resisted the want to roll his eyes and smirked at the boy before him. "Your disbelief at the fact does not bode well, Harry. But yes, I assure you, you undeniably just accomplished that feat which, for the longest time, I feared impossible."

It was now Harry who was doing his best to resist rolling his eyes. "Most people would have just said 'way', sir. But not Professor Snape. Oh, no, he has to talk like a bloody encyclopedia all the time."

Harry smiled as his professor directed a rather pointed glare in his direction.

Snape tapped his chin thoughtfully and sighed. "All right, Potter, have it your way." The Potions master cleared his throat before speaking again. "Harry, you just successfully used Occlumency."

Harry pretended to look astonished. "No way."

"Way."

"No way!"

"This is ludicrous. Lesson completed."

Harry smirked as his professor whirled and began heading for the door. He quickly jogged to catch up with the older wizard, grabbing his shoulder and spinning him back around.

Snape's look of exasperation quickly dissolved at the expression of explicit glee on Harry's face.

"Thank you, Professor. I couldn't have done it without you."

Snape felt himself warm with pride, as well as an undeniable twinge of embarrassment. Receiving such an open declaration of gratitude from one of his students was a rarity, especially when that student was Harry Potter. "Well, don't go spreading it around, Potter. Merlin help us if the Dark Lord finds out you are now actually proficient at something useful."

Harry glared at his mentor. "Is that your extremely round about way of saying 'you're welcome'?"

Snape smiled. "Way."

Harry rolled his eyes, shaking his head as he laughed. "It doesn't work like that!"

"Impossible Gryffindors," Snape muttered.

Harry continued to laugh out loud. It never ceased to amaze him when Professor Snape would actually joke around with him. Had their conversation happened a year ago, Harry would have assumed Snape was on drugs, drunk, or under the Imperius Curse.

Once his laughter subsided, the Boy-Who-Lived looked up to find his professor smirking down at him. Harry smiled back before asking, "Am I going to see you in Hogsmeade tonight, sir?"

The corners of Snape's lips quirked in amusement. "Can't get enough of my pleasant company, Potter?"

Harry's cheeks flushed slightly. "I just thought it would be nice if we could talk, you know? Away from lessons, homework and my impending doom," he finished lightly with a lopsided grin.

"Hmm…" Snape considered the offer carefully. "As much as I wish for Draco to observe me sharing drinks with you, I think I'll have to pass."

"Oh, right… sorry. Stupid idea," Harry muttered as he looked down.

Snape quirked an eyebrow in confusion as he noted the disappointment in Harry's voice. Surely the teenager didn't actually want to spend his weekend evenings with the dark Potion's master? Obviously their relationship had made leaps and bounds, but Harry Potter had plenty of friends his own age whose company he could bask in for the evening. Despite that fact, the boy was indeed saddened, and Severus couldn't help but feel moved by it.

Snape smirked before speaking again. "Touched as I am, Harry, that you would choose to spend your free time in my presence, I do not think the publicity would be wise."

Harry nodded. "I understand."

A small smile spread across Snape's features. The boy was miserable at hiding his disappointment. "However, I would not be adverse to having company in a half hour or so in my chambers. In fact, I dare say I'd enjoy it."

Harry looked up to find Snape smiling at him, and the Boy-Who-Lived grinned back.

* * *

"I think Hermione has a crush on you."

Severus Snape spit out his tea in shock, effectively spraying every object within three feet.

Harry began laughing hysterically, leaning back into the couch as his amusement overtook him.

The faintest tinge of red crept under Snape's collar as he waved his wand and muttered the incantation for a cleansing spell. "Why must everyone wait until the _precise_moment I have taken a drink to spring unsettling news on me?" he muttered under his breath.

Harry's laughter had subsided slightly, wiping a tear from his eye as he looked at his professor. "Oh, man… that was priceless."

Snape's eyes narrowed as he did his best to glare Harry into submission. His fingers tapped the arm of his chair in annoyance as he observed the teenage wizard before him, waiting very impatiently for his laughter to stop. Not a few moments ago, the two had been enjoying their tea, conversing about Hogsmeade and relaxing. It had been quite pleasant, and then Harry had to go and spring _that_ on him.

Harry's laughter had finally stopped, and now the Boy-Who-Lived was looking at his mentor expectantly. "So… did you hear what I said-?"

"Yes, I heard what you said!" Snape bit back.

Harry was visibly trying to hold in his laughter. After all, it was a rare occurrence when he could unsettle Professor Snape in such a way, and he planned on taking advantage of it. "She was talking about you all day. How intelligent you are, how graceful you are, how good you are with your hands…"

Snape wanted more than anything to be able to accuse the boy of lying. However, from the Potions master's work as a spy, he knew that everything in Harry's body language proved that he was indeed telling the truth.

Harry chuckled as he continued. "Ron was actually getting jealous; it was hilarious! What in the world did you say to her yesterday, sir?"

Severus took another sip of his tea, giving Harry a fierce glare that dared him to say anything else while he was drinking. The fact that Hermione Granger was gushing about him enough to upset Ronald Weasley was quite amusing, despite the fact that the young witch developed some sort of fascination with him. Setting his cup back down, Severus began playing the part of indifference as he spoke. "I merely complimented her intelligence, and apologized for my previous acts of rudeness."

"_Merely_?" Harry stated with wide eyes. "Sir, no offense, but there is nothing 'mere' about a compliment and an apology that comes from you."

"Be that as it may, I find it hard to believe she suddenly finds me irresistible after exchanging only a few words with her." The sarcasm in Snape's tone proved just how impossible he found it that a young student of his would start pining after him.

Harry grinned. "That's just the thing, sir, I don't think there's anything sudden about it. Back when Ron and I were- uh, less than thrilled with you as a teacher, she always stood up for you."

"How delightful," Snape replied in a tone that negated his statement.

Harry continued on as though he hadn't heard his professor. "So the fact that you pulled her aside and proceeded to compliment her, well, it's obvious that she likes you even more now."

Severus sipped his tea before sighing. "I truly fail to see how Miss Granger ever could have liked me in the beginning, let alone have a 'crush' on me now."

Harry chuckled. "Don't worry, sir. I think it's more that she looks up to you, not that she wants to ask you out on a date or something."

Snape rolled his eyes. "I'm perfectly aware of that, Potter. I didn't imagine Miss Granger trying to hold my hand in the hallway."

Harry snorted as the image entered his mind.

"Be that as it may," Snape considered thoughtfully. "Perhaps I should have another conversation with her. It truly is not wise for her to be lavishing me with compliments when Slytherin ears are around."

Harry paled as his professor spoke. "Don't you dare! She would absolutely _murder_ me if she ever found out I told you any of this!"

Snape's eyebrows rose as he smiled mischievously. "Really…"

"Professor Snape," Harry begged, looking positively frightened.

"My, my, Mr. Potter. How the tables have turned."

"Sir, you _can't_," the Boy-Who-Lived continued to plead. "I'll-I'll mention it to her tonight, okay? If she brings you up again, I'll tell her to keep her voice down."

Severus smirked into his cup, swallowing his drink before answering. "Very well, Harry. But if news of this should reach me again in any way, I'll be forced to intervene."

"It won't," Harry stated determinedly.

Severus continued to grin despite himself. The whole situation was rather amusing. It did not bother him that Hermione Granger had decided to look up to him; it actually made sense to him. What with the girl's constant unquenched thirst for knowledge and his rather high standing in the academic world.

No, what bothered him was the fact that Miss Granger was putting her very life in danger, not to mention Severus' position as a spy. If it became public knowledge that he was going soft on a Muggle-born, he shuddered to think what his punishment would be at the Dark Lord's hand.

As that thought crossed his mind, his amusement faded and he regarded Harry Potter with a serious expression. "This is important, Harry. I don't need to explain to you that her safety, as well as my own, depends on it."

Harry nodded quickly. "I understand, sir."

"Good." Snape looked to his Muggle clock and, noticing the time, gestured toward the clock for Harry. "You'd better get going if you want to make it to Hogsmeade tonight."

Harry's eyes widened as he looked at the clock. "Shite!" he shouted, jumping off the couch and gathering his things.

"Language, Potter," Snape's deep voice reprimanded.

A sheepish expression crossed Harry's face. "Right, sorry, sir. Won't happen again. Have a good night, Professor!" Harry all but sprinted out of the room as he spoke, already out the door before yelling his farewell.

Severus grinned and shook his head. He settled back into his armchair comfortably, placing a warming charm over the remainder of his tea. He sipped slowly as he considered all that had transpired thus far in the school year, as well as what would come to pass. Severus Snape was feeling at ease, for the first time in a long time. For once in his life, everything seemed to be falling into place for him nicely.

He was no fool, however; a life of contentedness was not for men like him.

Sighing deeply and letting a smile cross his lips, he resigned to enjoying the pleasant feeling that a messy-haired teenager and a wise old man had brought into his life.

* * *

Harry, Ron and Hermione sat together at a thick, oak table in the Three Broomsticks. The trio sipped at their butterbeers silently for the moment, simply enjoying the relaxing atmosphere that came with their dimly lit surroundings and the murmur of conversations around them.

Hermione broke the silence when she began discussing the Transfiguration lesson they had that afternoon, and Ron looked as though he were about to die from boredom.

"… I really don't think Professor McGonagall was in her right mind today. I don't know what she was thinking having us attempt a transfiguration of that caliber. I mean, she_herself_ couldn't even-"

"Hey, Harry," Ron interrupted suddenly, Hermione glaring as he spoke. "What did Snape teach you today? Anything worth talking about?"

Harry smirked at Ron's tactic. Bored as the red-head was listening to Hermione drone on and on about class, he knew he'd be able to interrupt her if it dealt with her new favorite topic.

"Actually, yeah," Harry smiled. "I was going to show you guys later, but I guess now's as good a time as any."

Ron and Hermione watched with interest as Harry pulled out his wand. After several seconds of watching their friend simply stare at the tip of it, Ron was about to ask what was so great when the wand began to shine brightly.

"Bloody hell!" Ron exclaimed, an impressed look on his face.

"Harry, that's wonderful!" Hermione chimed in. "Did you learn that in just one lesson?"

"Erm… yeah." Harry didn't feel like divulging the fact that the first time he pulled it off had been complete luck, and under very different circumstances than being taught in a classroom.

"That's amazing!" Hermione smiled widely before adding more quietly, "You're so lucky to have Professor Snape teaching you on the side. I bet you'll learn more than me this year."

The envy in Hermione's voice did not go unnoticed, and Harry and Ron exchanged a glance. The Boy-Who-Lived felt that he didn't need to address Hermione just yet, however, as she certainly wasn't gushing as Professor Snape had warned about.

Noticing that all three of their butterbeers were empty, Harry excused himself to the bar. He took a seat on one of the stools, and smiled back at Madam Rosmerta's pleasant greeting.

"Three more butterbeers, please," Harry requested politely.

Madam Rosmerta nodded before walking away to retrieve the bottles.

"Harry?" a slurred voice to his right beckoned.

The teenage wizard turned his head to find the intoxicated form of Professor Trelawney smiling drunkenly at him.

"Hello, Professor," Harry answered, forcing a grin.

"There's my favorite little prediction," Trelawney said loudly, throwing an arm clumsily over Harry's shoulders.

"Uh, yeah. Hi," the Boy-Who-Lived replied with annoyance. He knew after last year it was Trelawney that had made the prophecy concerning him, but he didn't much like being referred to as her "little prediction." He forced another weak smile onto his face, however, as it was obvious the woman was inebriated, and he would only have to put up with it for another moment or so.

"Did you know, Harry, that it was right down the road where I had my first interview with Dumbledore? Right over there," she paused to gesture wildly, "at the Hog's Head."

"Yeah," Harry replied as he resisted rolling his eyes. He knew that was her first interview, which had also been when she'd made her prophecy. Harry was thrumming his fingers on the bar now, feeling more than impatient to get his butterbeers so that he could go back to his table. Trelawney was going on and on to his right, and Harry found his mind wandering in order to block her rambling out.

"…when we were rudely interrupted by Severus Snape!" she bellowed as she threw her arms up into the air.

If it weren't for her unruly gesture causing one of her long, beaded necklaces to hit Harry in the face, he might have missed that last bit of information.

"Wait, what?" Harry asked in confusion.

"Oh, he claimed he took a wrong turn, but it was obvious to me, Harry, that he was eavesdropping. You see, the Inner Eye warns me of such-"

"You're _sure_," Harry cut in with a desperate look on his face.

Trelawney fumbled over her words for a moment. "Sure of what, dear?"

Harry sighed with impatience. "You are _sure_ that it was Professor Snape that was listening to you?"

Trelawney blinked her owl-like eyes for a moment. "Of course I am, Harry. You don't exactly mistake Severus Snape for anyone else."

"I have to go," Harry said with resolve as he stood.

"Oh, but- well, okay. See you later then, dear."

Harry felt as though someone else were controlling his body as he deftly made his way to exit the bar. His mind was set on what he needed to do and to do it right that moment; find Dumbledore. He was so immersed in his thoughts that he just about ran over Hermione.

"Harry!" his friend beckoned with wide eyes. "What's wrong? You look as though you've seen a ghost!"

"I need to see Dumbledore."

The worry Hermione felt for the peculiar way her friend was acting was etched across her features. Harry tried to move around her for the exit once again, but the young witch grabbed his arm.

"You can't go out there alone, Harry! Dumbledore said we are to stay in groups."

Harry shook his head, his expression filling with determination. "It's important, Hermione. I'm going; you and Ron stay here."

Before Hermione could protest any further, Harry had wrenched his arm free and was out of the building.

As Harry began the long walk back to Hogwarts, his purpose to find out the truth increased tenfold. Before he knew what he was doing, his long legs were sprinting down the path that would take him to his answer. After a few minutes, he was breathing hard due to the exertion and there was a terrible cramp in his side, but he pushed it out of his mind. The crisp fall air was harsh on his lungs as he continued on his way, leaves crunching beneath his feet. Running as fast as he could, he flew through the giant entrance to the castle, and continued sprinting down the hall that would take him to the headmaster. He faintly heard Filch yelling after him, but Harry ignored him.

Huffing and puffing, he slowed to a stop as he leaned over to catch his breath in front of the gargoyle statue. Once he had enough breath to speak, he glared hatefully at the stone face.

"Let me in; it's urgent," he panted.

The silence that answered him caused what little patience he had left to crumble.

"LET ME IN RIGHT NOW, YOU UGLY PIECE OF ROCK!"

Never in a million years did Harry consider that tactic would work, and yet, the spiral staircase before him opened up to allow him access. The Boy-Who-Lived didn't waste any time, as he quickly ran up the stairs and knocked on the door to Dumbledore's office.

"Come in," the headmaster's voice called from the other side.

Once the door opened, Dumbledore was taken aback at the sight that greeted him. Harry looked ghostly pale and shaken, and the teenager's chest hitched with every breath he took. In short, it looked as though the wizard was about to hyperventilate.

"Harry, my dear boy, take a seat."

"I can't, I-I won't, sir. I need to know something."

Dumbledore looked the boy over carefully. "Surely you have enough time to take a seat, Harry, to calm yourself-"

"NO! I HAVE TO KNOW!"

The headmaster's face held concern as he inhaled deeply. "Know what, my boy?"

"Was it him?" He had asked the question so quietly, he was sure Dumbledore would need him to repeat it. It was amazing how hard Harry was finding it to even _ask_ if it was Professor Snape who… who-

"Was what whom, Harry?"

Harry sucked in a deep, shaky breath. "Was it Professor Snape that passed on Trelawney's prophecy to Voldemort?"

Dumbledore's expression sank in a way that suddenly made him look twenty years older. "Oh, Harry…" he breathed.

"WAS IT?"

The headmaster's eyes took on a pleading look. "My boy, you must understand, it was different circumstances-"

"Did Professor Snape tell Voldemort about the prophecy, _yes_ or _no_?"

Dumbledore sighed deeply. "Yes, Harry… he did. But you must listen to…"

Harry had, unfortunately, stopped listening as he felt his body grow hot with anger and hurt. He stormed out of Dumbledore's office, the sound of the headmaster calling after him doing nothing to slow his pace. His body was rigid with rage and betrayal, and he could only think of one person he wanted to see at the moment.

He was going to pay Professor Snape a visit.

To be continued…

A/N: Beta-ed by Sindie


	6. Torrent

Chapter 6: Torrent

"_Twenty more seconds…_" the Potions professor thought to himself as he continued to stir the cauldron of murky green liquid. After a few moments, the thick potion slowly transformed to a less viscous, brilliant emerald color.

Snape smiled to himself in satisfaction, wiping his brow as he straightened his posture. He had been hunched over the potion for so long, he grimaced as his neglected back cracked with exertion. Sighing to himself, Severus couldn't help but wonder if the damage done to his back would indeed be permanent.

"_It will be if you keep bending over potions for hours a day_," he mused to himself.

It was getting rather late, and as Snape set about finding the correct size vile for his creation, he jumped suddenly as the door to his private potions lab was thrown forcefully open.

He whipped around to send a glare at whomever dared enter his lab in such a manner, and his eyebrows rose as he was met with a murderous looking Harry Potter.

Breathing heavily, the Boy-Who-Lived glared hatefully at the man he thought he knew, the man he now knew had betrayed his family, had betrayed _him_. Harry grabbed the first vial of potion he saw and threw it with all his might. It soared across the lab, smashing into other bottles and creating an explosion of various colored fluids and shattered vials.

Snape grabbed the edge of his dark cloak and shielded himself against the onslaught of potions and glass. Once the disturbance had settled, he looked at the teenager with confusion for a fleeting moment, before a snarl formed on his lips and anger took over.

"Potter! What is the meaning of this?"

Harry's heart was pounding with a force he didn't know was possible. He clenched his jaw as he was filled with mixing emotions. He had never before felt so deceived, so…_used_.

"Everything you've ever told me has been a _lie_. Hasn't it?"

Snape stared back at his young charge with confusion. "What the devil are you going on about?"

Harry glared fiercely, his throat constricting with anger. "I should have known. How could I miss it? It's your job, _Snape_. It's your job to deceive people!"

Severus could feel his entire body tense. The boy was obviously upset, and very angry, and he still had no idea why. Harry had no reason to be addressing him in such an uncouth manner, however, and Snape decided to let that fact be known.

"Explain yourself properly and do so with respect! I will not be shouted at!"

"Oh, piss off!" Harry shouted back.

Snape drew himself up to his full height, giving Harry look that told him he was treading on dangerous ground.

The Boy-Who-Lived could care less about being well mannered at the moment, however, and no amount of anger from Snape was going to change his mind.

"You think you can tell me what to do? I know the truth now. I will not take orders from the man responsible for my parents' death!" Harry felt his eyes well with tears as he shouted, his face burning with anger.

Severus felt himself go cold as his entire form sank, and he grabbed the corner of the table behind himself for support. He closed his eyes painfully. "_How did he find out? How could he possibly know?_" he asked himself miserably. He realized it didn't matter, however; the boy knew. Severus had been asking for this to happen the longer he put off telling the boy himself. Now Harry found out from an outside source and undoubtedly felt betrayal of the worst kind.

Snape took a deep, shuddering breath, opening his eyes to gaze apologetically at the miserable looking teenager before him.

"Harry," he began softly, slowly. "I wanted to tell you; I just, I didn't know-"

"Oh, no!" Harry cut in; trying to fight the moisture that threatened to trickle down his face. "You won't do this to me! YOU WON'T! You're a good actor, Snape, a _very_ good actor. But I'm not falling for it again!"

"Harry," Snape started again, more forcefully this time. "I'm _not_ acting. Not about something like this. I wanted to tell you. It was the worst mistake of my life, one that I've been paying for ever-"

"Stop it!" Harry barked. The teenager's fists were clenching at his sides so tightly his knuckles had gone white. "A mistake?" he asked unbelievingly. "You were Voldemort's right hand man! You ran to him the minute you heard the prophecy!"

"I didn't know who the prophecy was about, only-"

"Like I'm going to believe any of the shite you say! Didn't know? You heard the name 'James Potter' and couldn't _wait_ to let your master know!"

"You're _wrong_," Snape insisted. The boy was too hysterical to listen to reason, and he found that he couldn't blame the teenage wizard. Snape pinched the bridge of his nose. He messed up; he messed this up badly. As the room remained silent, save for Harry's heavy breathing, Severus thought of another angle he could approach this from. Harry felt betrayed, that much was obvious, but surely the boy would trust his mentor over whatever outside source he heard the story from. "Harry, please listen to me. I do not know how much you heard or did not hear of the story; let me tell you the full truth. Please."

Severus was not used to pleading, but in this moment, he was desperate to get the boy he cared for to believe him.

When Harry spoke again, his voice was quiet, unsettlingly so.

"After I found out, I went to Dumbledore."

Snape's heartbeat increased as he waited for Harry to continue. If the boy had gone to Albus, surely the headmaster had cleared everything up?

"I asked him if it was true, Snape. I didn't want to believe it, any of it."

Harry lowered his head as he whispered, and Severus felt his heart ache at the tears that were now trailing down the boy's face.

"He told me that what I had heard _was_ true," Harry stated with fierceness in his eyes.

Severus nodded slowly, gesturing for the boy to continue. "And…? What else did he say?"

"I didn't _need_ to hear anything else, Snape."

Snape closed his eyes tightly, shaking his head. "You idiot boy," he seethed. "You need to hear _everything_!"

Harry's expression turned defensive. "What else could there possibly be to say?"

Severus' brow knitted together, his jaw working but no words were coming out. "_I care about you. I would die before I let any harm come to you. That night was the biggest mistake of my life, and I live to regret it each and every day._ _Say it! SAY IT!_" his thoughts commanded. Severus remained silent, however, and he damned his inability to truly show how he felt.

Harry nodded slowly, accepting his professor's silence as an admission.

"That's what I thought," he said quietly.

"Harry…" Snape's voice came out quiet, almost desperate.

"So _this_," the Boy-Who-Lived gestured angrily between his professor and himself, "is all just a part of it, isn't it?"

Severus looked at Harry miserably. "A part of what?"

"Your plan," Harry stated with narrowed eyes. "You've been acting with me, and truthful with Voldemort."

Severus found himself clenching his jaw at the accusation he thought he had put behind him long ago. "Harry, listen to what you are saying. You cannot possibly believe that."

"Clearly I don't know what to believe anymore!"

Snape's eyes widened ever so slightly as the boy began shouting again.

"The second I think I have something figured out, it blows up in my face!" the teenager added, his voice wavering with emotion.

Severus could only shake his head, his eyes pleading.

Harry scowled. "I've seen you give me that look before, Professor. You must have mastered it, because it looks bloody genuine!"

"It _is_ genuine, you obstinate brat."

The Boy-Who-Lived scoffed disbelievingly. The actual truth of what he was feeling he had admitted only a moment ago. He had no idea what to think or to believe anymore. He thought he could trust Professor Snape, was finally allowing himself to do so, when he got the shock of his lifetime. The only thing he knew to be true at that moment in time was the hurt he felt. It was like a stabbing pain that raked his entire body, one that felt as though it may never end.

"Harry…?"

Harry's head snapped up at the concerned, despondent tone that resounded within his professor's deep voice. Only when he had lifted his head did he realize he'd been standing in silence with tears of hurt trailing down his face. He wiped away his tears hastily; embarrassment joined his feelings of hurt and anger. Glaring at his professor once more, he turned on his heel and stomped out of the lab.

"Potter!" Snape snapped as the teenager turned around.

The Boy-Who-Lived ignored him, however, as he once again slammed the door to the Potions lab.

Severus placed his head in his hands, letting out a shaky breath. He had never felt so miserable in his entire life. The guilt that flip-flopped in his stomach was so intense he thought he was going to be sick. Every time he blinked, the image of the tear-streaked face and watery eyes of the teenage wizard tortured him. He knew he had to set things right with Harry, sit him down and make him listen to the truth. He also knew the young wizard would not listen to reason until he had calmed down. He could only hope with all of his heart that even though he was partly responsible for the death of Harry's beloved parents, the Boy-Who-Lived would believe Snape when he said it was a mistake, and he lived to regret it each day. In fact, he would give his own life in an instant if it meant he could give Harry his parents back.

Taking in another deep, cleansing breath, Severus looked up, thanking Merlin the day was over.

Unfortunately, someone very dark and very powerful had other ideas.

Expletives poured from Snape's mouth as he felt the familiar stinging run up and down his forearm. Clenching his jaw and putting up the usual barriers in his mind, he Apparated to the familiar gravesite.

Snape was faced with the Dark Lord, sitting at his usual spot in the empty graveyard as he waited for his subordinates to arrive.

"Severusss," the cold voice hissed as he approached. "The first to arrive. Trying to make up for past faults, are we?"

The question sounded innocent enough, but one would have to be completely insane to think of it as such.

Snape steeled himself as he walked forward, kneeling before Voldemort in submission. "My entire life is devoted to serving you better, My Lord."

Lord Voldemort sneered at the man bowing before him as several more Death Eaters arrived, _cracks_ being heard as they appeared.

"I've no doubt, Severus. You may go; join the others."

Snape nodded his head, hating the fact that he had to be in _his_ presence more than ever before. He backed away gracefully before joining the other Death Eaters in a circle around the Dark Lord.

Voldemort stood from his chair and slowly walked forward, his long fingers twirling his wand in his right hand.

"This meeting will be short, but of great importance."

Every hooded head in the crowd followed the Dark Lord as he paced in front of them.

"There are certain items that I have procured over the past few years, as I am sure all of you are well aware."

There was a murmur of assent among the crowd and Severus felt himself grow stiff. Could he be lucky enough to find out about the very "Horcrux" Albus had been talking about?

"These items, these… Horcruxes," the hissing voice continued, "are nothing more than a ruse. A clever trap of sorts that I myself came up with."

Severus swallowed thickly, realizing he needed to pay the headmaster a visit as soon as possible.

Voldemort began speaking again, a mischievous glint in his red eyes. "There _are_ Horcruxes, oh, yes, but there are only three. Of the several items in my possession, no one but myself will have the knowledge of which ones are and which ones are not."

The last thing Snape wanted to do was draw attention to himself; however, an idea formed in his head that he simply had to try. Taking a deep breath, he took a few steps forward and kneeled before the Dark Lord.

"Yes, Severusss?"

Snape remained kneeling, but raised his head as he addressed Voldemort. "My Lord, if it entices you, you can entrust this information to me. If I know which items are Horcruxes, I can fool Dumbledore into seeking out the wrong one, when the time is right, of course."

Something like a sneer spread across Voldemort's face, but it was much more sinister looking. "Why, Severus, what an excellent idea. However, I'm afraid it will have to wait."

Snape's eyes narrowed in confusion, and Voldemort began approaching his kneeling form as he spoke once more.

"You see, something is amiss about you tonight, and I want to know what it is before I entrust such valuable information to you."

Snape took a deep breath, bowing his head once again and preparing himself for the performance he was about to give.

"Forgive me, My Lord. Something detrimental to my cause has occurred. I was hoping to resolve the problem before it was necessary to burden you with the information."

Voldemort's slit-like nostrils flared in frustration. "Show me!" he barked.

Snape felt Voldemort enter his mind, and for once he didn't have to hide anything from him. From Voldemort's point of view, Snape would look as though he were acting in order to gain Harry's trust again.

When the Dark Lord exited, he had a thoughtful look about him. "So… Harry Potter has found out the truth. This does not bode well, Severus. How do you plan on fixing this?"

"I have a plan, My Lord. The performance of a lifetime to prove to him I did not know whom the prophecy was about. Which is, of course, a lie, but the boy has become so attached to me he will not only _want_ to believe it, he'll force himself to." Snape felt a tightness form in his chest as he spoke, realizing that the boy's loving and forgiving nature would undoubtedly cause him to do just that. Severus began to wonder if he truly deserved such affections from Harry Potter…

Voldemort grinned wickedly at the thought of toying with Harry Potter's emotions in such a way. His expression turned serious once again, and he lifted Snape's chin with one long, scaly finger.

"The next time I call you to my side, Severus, the boy had better be looking up to you again as though you are the only person in that entire school."

Severus nodded obediently. "He will, My Lord."

One side of Voldemort's mouth turned upward menacingly. "He had better, or it is you that will feel the consequences. Only when you have achieved this, will I tell you of the Horcruxes. Am I understood?" Voldemort's reptilian hand grabbed hold of Snape's chin forcefully, accentuating the last statement.

"Yes, My Lord."

"Excellent."

Voldemort released Snape and resumed his position in front of the crowd.

"Severus, you may leave. You have a task to attend to. The rest of you will remain. Someone among you has not been _entirely_ truthful with me."

Snape inwardly cringed at the dangerous tone Voldemort was addressing the crowd with. Moving to his feet, Snape nodded his assent to the Dark Lord before Apparating back to his chambers in Hogwarts. The charm Dumbledore had placed on his rooms to allow him to Apparate in and out of Hogwarts was proving exceedingly useful.

Snape knew he needed to talk to Harry, but warning Albus about the potential danger of the ring was more important at the moment. He quickly moved to his fireplace and stuck his head into the headmaster's office through the use of Floo powder.

"Albus?" he called quietly. Looking around the office, he could not see the headmaster anywhere.

"Albus?" he tried again, more loudly this time.

Snape thought he heard a pained groan and felt his stomach tie in a knot because of it. Pulling his head from the Floo, he threw more powder in and declared his destination. He burst into the headmaster's office with an emerald glow and searched the room desperately. It was when he saw the edge of a violet robe on the floor behind the desk that he swallowed thickly in apprehension.

He hurriedly walked forward, and his breath caught in his throat as his fear was confirmed. Albus Dumbledore was lying face down on the floor, with Marvolo Gaunt's ring to his right.

Cursing loudly, he moved forward and kneeled next to the headmaster.

"Albus!" he called with anxiety in his voice.

Once again he received only a moan in response, and Severus placed a hand on his mentor's back. He used his other hand to run a diagnostic spell of the older wizard's condition with his wand. The results were… not promising.

Cursing to himself again, Severus felt an overwhelming amount of trepidation wash over him. Knowing that time was of the essence, he moved back to the fireplace and, through the use of Floo powder, stuck his arm through and into his lab. He quickly Accioed the proper potions to himself, returning to Albus' side as fast as possible.

Grabbing Albus gently, he turned the wizard over so that he could see his face. Using his wand, he covered the headmaster with every healing spell he could possibly think of that would be useful. He started with a counter curse, one he hoped would be enough to stop the spread of whatever "poison" that ring had caused to enter Albus' body.

Once he had completed his spells, the Potions master breathed a sigh of relief as the headmaster's eyes blinked open.

"Severus?" he questioned weakly.

"Drink these and do not argue with me," Snape replied with urgency.

Trusting the Potions master whole-heartedly, Albus drank down all three of the vials of potion he was given.

Severus watched with a furrowed brow as his mentor drank, he had a sinking feeling the potions would only do so much. Once Albus had finished, Severus wrapped one of the older wizard's arms over his shoulders and wordlessly helped him to his feet. He moved slowly, as he was carrying most of Albus' weight, and helped him into the chair behind his desk.

"Thank you, my boy," Albus said weakly once Snape had released him. "I don't know where I would be without you."

The praise fell on deaf ears, however, as Severus was in no mood for it. Using _Wingardium Leviosa_, he lifted the cursed ring into the air and dropped it into one of his empty potion vials, corking the top once it was inside.

Continuing his silence, Snape stood in front of the headmaster and ran another diagnostic spell over the wizard. His expression remained impassive, despite how badly he wanted to scream to the high heavens at the results he found.

"How long, Severus?"

Trying to control his anger at his mentor, the burning, all-encompassing anger that felt as though it would explode outward at any minute, his face remained expressionless as he answered, "Less than a year."

Dumbledore nodded to himself in a knowing manner, as though it were exactly as he expected.

This reaction only added fuel to Snape's internal fire, and he couldn't control himself any longer.

"Was it worth it, Albus?" he asked with venom.

Sad blue eyes found pained black ones, and Albus sighed deeply.

"Severus… I was not thinking clearly. I fear the temptation of having it in my possession was too great."

Snape scoffed. "The temptation of having what, exactly? A cursed ring that the Dark Lord set as a trap? Because that is very well what it may be. He said so tonight, Albus. There are only three true Horcruxes! Not seven! Three!"

Dumbledore sighed tiredly as he massaged his forehead. "Then let us hope that the ring was one of them."

Snape looked disbelievingly at his mentor. The older wizard's impassiveness at the news that he would be dead within a year, as well as the fact that it may have been for nothing, was enough to make Snape want to explode.

Dumbledore could sense the younger wizard's anxiety. It was not difficult; the Potions master was practically emitting fumes. The headmaster gave his young wizard an appeasing smile.

"All is not lost, Severus. Even if the ring is not one of the Horcruxes, we may still be able to use this to our advantage. Should Voldemort entrust to you which items are Horcruxes, you could tell him you lured me to the wrong item."

Severus clenched his jaw in fury. His eyes were narrowed dangerously, and when he found his voice to speak, it came out seething. "Nothing else matters to you, Albus. Your life, my life, Potter's life, none of it matters so long as there is a _chance_ the Dark Lord is harmed in the process!"

Dumbledore shook his head sadly. "Severus, you know that is not true."

Snape laughed in a disbelieving manner, and the noise it created came off as a bit mad. "You bloody well act like it," he said, gesturing towards Albus' weakened body.

"You and Harry mean more to me than… anything."

Snape was ready with a retort, but shut his mouth quickly at the unexpected words that left Dumbledore. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Severus' dark eyes found those of his mentor.

"Surely you know how much this is going to affect… me?"

Dumbledore smiled sadly at the younger wizard. "Yes, my boy. I fear that will be my biggest regret."

Snape's expression took on its normal stoic appearance, and he nodded slowly.

"Excuse me, Albus; I need some time alone."

As Severus Flooed back to his own chambers, he thought he heard a quiet "I'm sorry", but couldn't bear to either affirm or deny it in his mind. He took another deep breath as he looked around his sitting room. The events of the day were quickly catching up with him, and in the solitude of his chambers, he decided to let them take hold.

Overcome with exhaustion and grief, Severus fell to his knees and placed his head in his hands.

To be continued…

A/N: Beta-ed by Sindie


	7. Not Quite According to Plan

Chapter 7: Not (Quite) According to Plan

It had been one long week since Severus was quite literally brought to his knees with despair. He found himself depressed, more so than he could remember being in a while, and it was affecting his health negatively. Consequently, his thin face scowled with disgust as he poked at the food on his breakfast platter.

Sighing irritably, the Potions master shoved his plate away before placing his elbows on the table and steepling his fingers together, bowing his head behind them. He closed his eyes tiredly as he listened to the murmur of many conversations and the clinking of silverware that echoed throughout the Great Hall.

After a few moments of well-practiced calming breaths, Severus raised his head. His dark eyes immediately settled on the boy who was the current cause of half of his depression. Once again, Harry Potter was sitting with his back to the professor, and Severus felt dismayed for hoping that maybe today would be the day the boy met his eyes.

Harry was being as evasive of the Potions master as ever, and Severus had just about run out of ideas to get the boy to talk. He could never seem to get the teenager alone, and the one time he tried giving Harry an 'undeserved' detention, the boy had conveniently had a meeting with Dumbledore. Harry had stopped coming to their evening lessons altogether, and Severus felt he could not blame him. Harry didn't trust him, wouldn't trust him unless Severus could speak the truth with him.

The Potions master would have normally requested the headmaster's assistance in a matter such as this, except for the fact that he was not currently speaking to Albus. And there inlay the second source of his depression. He did not know how to handle the new… situation the headmaster had gotten himself into. Snape feared that one meeting with the man would break him emotionally, and Severus was not about to let that happen. Not in front of Albus, not even by himself, would he allow such vulnerability to show.

Snape had effectively pushed away the two most important people in his life.

As if on cue, the brooding wizard heard the headmaster take a seat to his left.

"Good morning, Severus."

Snape did not reply, only nodded before abruptly standing.

Albus directed a pointed look at his Potions master, gesturing with his eyes toward the plate of uneaten food. "Leaving so soon again, my boy? Once again, you've barely eaten a thing."

Severus felt as though he were bleeding internally as he looked into the concerned and knowing eyes of his mentor, but his expression remained impassive.

"I've a lesson soon and parchments yet to grade. Good day, Albus."

As coldly as he had been treating the headmaster all week, Severus took his leave.

* * *

During his afternoon Potions lesson, Professor Snape sat at his desk as his students tended to the assignment. He had appointed a decidedly easy potion for the day, more to catch up on grading parchments than for the fact he didn't want to deal with any more stupidity than necessary. His anguish had caused him to become more and more distracted throughout his days, and his punctuality with returning papers was one of the many things that suffered because of it.

He had managed to avoid looking in Potter's direction for almost the entirety of the lesson, and was glad for it. He didn't think he could take being blatantly ignored, or even worse, glared at fiercely very much longer. After the closeness he had achieved with the boy, the complete turn around in Harry's behavior toward him was more than off-putting.

While on the topic of disconcertion, Snape did happen to notice that every time his eyes roamed the classroom for misbehavior, he would find Miss Hermione Granger looking at him with narrowed eyes. He wrote off the most recent occurrence as he had with the others, but couldn't help but muse to himself that perhaps the girl's "crush" had ended.

It wasn't until he dismissed his class for the day that he realized he was probably going to have to face up to the persistent witch. Rolling his eyes to himself as she stood before his desk, he continued to ignore her presence as he made on with slashing red marks on some foolish third-year's parchment.

Hermione knew her professor was ignoring her, and she was in no mood for it. She tried clearing her throat as an attention getter, but no such luck. Sighing in exasperation at her professor's antics, the witch began to speak.

"Excuse me, Professor Snape, may I have a word with you?"

"I believe you've just had several," he replied, not missing a beat.

Hermione frowned at his dismissive tone, as well as the fact he had yet to look at her. "Well, I'd like to have a few more," she said determinedly, summoning a chair and taking a seat across from Snape.

Snape sighed to himself, dropping his quill and leaning back in his chair. He crossed his arms and fixed the young witch with a challenging gaze. "And all this time I thought you were of a higher mental acumen than Mr. Potter."

Hermione furrowed her brow. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It _means_," Snape began as he leaned over his desk and scowled, "that just because I give you an inch does not mean you can take a mile."

Hermione swallowed anxiously, leaning back into her chair away from her looming professor. They stared into each other's eyes for a moment before the witch's expression of determination resumed. "I don't see how having a simple conversation equates to 'taking a mile'," she countered.

Still leaning over his desk, Snape's lips turned upward into a smirk. The girl was just too damn relentless. Sitting back into his chair, he gestured for Hermione to continue. "I can see that it will take even more of my time away from me if I attempt to dissuade you, so out with it already. What do you want?"

"It's about-"

"Harry?" Snape finished for her.

Hermione glared and Snape sneered.

Hermione's Gryffindor bravery pushed her on, even though she knew she was already walking on thin ice by being so forward with the wizard.

"I know what is going on between you," she began carefully, "and I want to help."

Severus' eyes narrowed, his jaw clenching tighter as the girl spoke. "May I enquire as to what exactly it is that you _think_ you know?"

"I spoke with Professor Dumbledore about what was going on."

"Of course you did," came the sarcastic reply.

"He told me everything."

"Of course he did," Severus came back through gritted teeth.

"He's very worried about you, Professor… and-and so am I," Hermione added quietly.

Professor Snape's gaze hardened. "I do not need your concern, and feel free to pass that sentiment on to the headmaster if you like. And what's more, I don't need your help."

Snape stood abruptly and turned, heading for his personal office and thereby signaling the conversation as being closed.

Hermione would have none of it, however, as she too rose and stood in her Professor's path.

"Ms. Granger…" he growled.

"I know you've been trying to talk with Harry, and I know why he won't listen or give you a chance."

Snape was glaring rather fiercely now, and Hermione began talking more quickly before she lost her nerve, or before her Professor had the chance to hex her mouth closed. "But I also know what really happened back then, that it was a mistake. If you only had the chance to make him listen, I know he would forgive you."

"Do you?" her professor drawled.

"Of course he would!" the young witch countered. "You mean a lot to him, sir. He's just letting his anger get in the way of giving you a chance."

"And don't you think he has a reason to feel angry?" Snape's voice came out low and menacing.

Hermione faltered for a moment, before meeting her Professor's eyes again. "Well… yes. But I also know that he does not want to hate you. He… he misses you."

"He said that?"

"No… but I can tell!"

Snape smirked. "Your insight is of no use to me, Ms. Granger. Now, if you don't mind-"

"I do mind!" the young witch shouted, her frustration and concern evident on her features. "You're being difficult on purpose! I can help you, both of you, and I'm going to whether you like it or not!"

Snape's head tilted to the side as he contemplated the teenage girl before him. He took a step closer to the witch, invading her personal space, and when he spoke, his voice came out dangerously low. "I believe I missed the conversation where I gave you permission to shout at me and, more importantly, intrude on my life."

"I-I just wanted to help," Hermione faltered as her advancing professor was pushing her farther back into a corner.

"Hmmm… yes," Snape's deep voice remarked thoughtfully, "you Gryffindors and your foolish desire to save everyone."

Hermione felt shivers go up and down her spine, but before she could contemplate the meaning of them, her mouth was opening with a reply. "Not everyone, just those I care about, sir," she came back with wide eyes, staring up at the intimidating wizard.

Severus felt his anger ebb at the soft-spoken words of the young witch before him. Did she really just hint that she cared for him? Snape blew out an exasperated breath as he turned away from the girl and pinched the bridge of his nose.

What was he getting himself into? He now had not only one, but two Gryffindor students staring up at him with those wide, puppy dog eyes. Merlin save him if Weasley started dropping by on a regular basis.

"Professor?" came Hermione's quiet voice. "Will you at least listen to my idea of how to get Harry to talk to you?"

Severus considered the offer very cautiously in his head. He knew he was out of ideas for the time being, and he really was in no position to turn down an open offer of assistance, no matter how much it pained him to accept help.

The Potions master turned to face her again, a stern look on his face. "Very well, let's hear it."

Hermione's eyes brightened at her professor's acceptance, and she began to talk excitedly. "Harry and I are going to work on your assignment tomorrow night, and I've 'accidentally' left my potions book in your classroom." She grinned as she gestured toward a table where, sure enough, her book remained. "I'll ask Harry to retrieve it while I start working on research in the library. Obviously, he'll want to check his map to make sure you're not around, so at exactly eight o'clock tomorrow evening, be somewhere else. If we time it right, he'll be in or around your class when you make your return, and it will be impossible for him to avoid you."

Hermione finished with a wide smile, and Snape appeared to be considering the idea.

"There is one flaw in your plan, Ms. Granger."

Hermione frowned. "What's that?"

"The fact that Harry has a perfectly good Potions text of his own you could use for the assignment."

Hermione smiled again. "Oh, I've already thought of that as well. I'll tell him I have notes in the margin of my book that we'll need for the homework."

One side of Snape's mouth quirked into a smile and he began nodding. "If this works, Ms. Granger, I believe I'll owe you more than just an apology."

Hermione beamed. "I look forward to it, sir."

* * *

Harry slowly made his way down into the dungeons. He was annoyed with having to be there, but as Hermione pointed out, it was either retrieve her book or start doing the research himself. He wasn't about to do research when there were other options open to him.

He had made sure to triple check the Marauder's Map for any sign of Professor Snape, and was satisfied when he couldn't find the Potions master anywhere near the lab. The odd thing was, however, that Harry could not find the older wizard on the map at all. The Boy-Who-Lived had quickly brushed that thought out of his mind, however. What did he care where the traitorous git was anyway?

Harry wasn't fooling himself by any means. There was a spot deep inside of him that still hurt. An ache that he thought might never go away so long as Professor Snape remained the monster he had recently found out the wizard was. The pain only made him angrier, though, which continued to remain his presiding emotion as it had for the past week.

The teenage wizard had reached the door to the potions lab, and he opened it slowly. He quickly checked for any sign of his professor, just to be on the safe side. When he realized he was indeed alone, Harry entered the room. He smiled to himself as he saw Hermione's Potions text lying on their usual lab table. As he walked over to it, he realized how peculiar it was for Hermione to forget it. His friend never forgot anything, let alone a book.

It was when he picked the book up off of the table that he heard a loud crash come from Professor Snape's private quarters. The Boy-Who-Lived jumped at the noise, and was about to make a run for it when he heard a strangled moan.

Harry narrowed his eyes and hoped it was Professor Snape that was in pain. That bastard deserved every ounce he received and more. Harry wasn't about to turn his back on the noise, however. What if it was Dumbledore in pain looking for Professor Snape?

Harry walked quickly toward Snape's quarters, throwing the door open upon arrival. What he found was not what he expected.

A Death Eater, complete with silver mask and black robes, was convulsing violently on the floor.

Readying his wand just in case, Harry made his way to where the Death Eater lay. The teenage wizard kneeled down, and pulled the mask off with one quick motion. His green eyes met the wide and pain filled black ones of his professor.

"Ha-arry…" his professor barely made out through the spasms.

Harry stared coldly down at his ex-mentor. "Having a little chat with Voldemort this evening, were you, Professor?"

"Har-" Snape tried again, but was cut off by another violent jerking of his body.

"He's probably not too happy with you, I'd imagine," Harry continued with a look of indifference as to how much pain the man before him was in. "It's not every day you fail a direct order, is it?" He watched as his professor's dark eyes closed tightly in pain, and he mentally asked himself how long he would allow this torture to continue on the man who he had, not one week ago, thought the world of.

Shaking his head as he felt his chest tighten, Harry reminded himself that this was also the wizard who was partly responsible for his parents' deaths.

Severus was in such constant pain, he could barely speak, let alone think clearly. He knew the only way to get Harry to understand how much he meant to him, and time was of the essence if the boy was going to help him through this. Snape realized in that instant that if Harry truly did hate him even after finding out the truth, Severus would not mind dying on the spot. But before he gave in to the temptation of being free from his agony, he had to try to make the boy understand.

Black eyes found green ones yet again, and Snape exerted all of the energy he could into speaking.

"My r-room. Dress-ser. Go-go. Please."

Deciding that the time to end his professor's pain had arrived, Harry left the older wizard's side. As he headed toward Snape's room, he found it a bit ironic that he was just ordered to go into the very place he was previously told never to enter. Harry figured that whatever potion would save Professor Snape's life must lie inside; otherwise why would Snape demand that he go in?

Harry walked through the door to the bedroom quickly, and made straight for the dresser. Upon arrival, he was a bit disconcerted to find that there was no potion vile on top of the bureau. He began to feel a bit panicked as he threw drawer after drawer open, hoping to discover a potion inside, but with no such luck. He was about to take note of the way his heart was pounding with fear at the fact that he might not be able to save his professor, when his eye caught a familiar drawing.

Brows furrowed, Harry picked up the picture… _his_ picture, of Hogwarts and its professors. He had drawn it after his first year, and was more than confused as to how and why it was in Professor Snape's room. The Boy-Who-Lived remembered then about how his professor had paid a visit to the Dursleys, and how he had made them pay for their treatment of Harry his whole life.

As he continued to gaze at the drawing, his mind kept going back to asking the question "Why?" Why would Snape have saved this picture, and why would he keep it on his dresser this whole time? Harry distantly began to remember how whenever Dudley would draw an indiscernible picture that Harry thought was only fit for the trash, his Aunt Petunia would ooh and aah all over it. She would then proudly attach it to the refrigerator for all to see. Harry figured that she must have done it because she loved Dudley, which was exactly why none of Harry's drawings ever made it to the fridge.

Oh…

No.

Harry felt his stomach drop and his throat constrict at the realization. How could he have let his anger blind him so easily? It was then that he realized the continuous thrashing noises his professor had been making the whole time had stopped. Harry strained to listen as he stared at his ghost-white reflection in the mirror above the dresser, but he was answered by silence.

Dropping the drawing, he dashed out of the room and slid on his knees to his professor's motionless side. He grabbed the older wizard's shoulders roughly and began shaking the man.

"Snape! Sir! Professor Snape!" he bellowed almost hysterically.

Harry was distraught to find that the man was indeed unconscious. The Boy-Who-Lived figured Professor Snape must have passed out from the long duration of intense agony he was in. Feeling an uneasy wave of guilt surging in his stomach, Harry placed a finger on his Professor's neck to check for a pulse. He breathed a sigh of relief as he found it, and did the only thing his frantic mind could think of.

"_Aguamenti_!" he shouted.

A stream of cool water erupted from his wand and splashed in Professor Snape's face.

Sputtering, Snape's eyes opened wide before closing tightly again as the reality of his pain set in. He could feel every nerve ending in his body twitching as though an electric shock were coursing through him, and he let out a guttural moan in anguish. When he opened his eyes again, he found the very wide, concerned, and guilty emerald orbs of Harry staring back down at him. It was also then when he realized his upper body was being cradled against the teenager's torso. The amount of relief that washed over him as he realized Harry had seen the drawing and finally understood was almost enough to overpower his muscle tremors.

Almost.

He groaned once again as an especially potent quake coursed through his back, and his hand gripped Harry's forearm tightly to help ease the pain.

"Sir, what do you need? Tell me what to get to make the pain stop," Harry asked desperately.

Severus shook his head dismissively. "There is nothing… prolonged exposure- to the- Cruciatus…" the professor managed to choke out between sharp inhalations and gasps of pain.

Harry's brow furrowed as his concern grew exponentially. "Nothing? You mean we just have to wait for it to end?"

Severus nodded before gasping again, grimacing as he squeezed Harry's arm.

Feeling absolutely helpless and hating himself for it, Harry did the only thing he could think of. He pulled his professor closer, his arms cradling Severus tightly against himself in the only means of comfort he could provide.

Harry waited patiently for his professor's pain to end, trying to hide his own cringing when Snape would grab his arm forcefully. The Boy-Who-Lived endured it, because it was the least he could do for the man in his arms. Harry had a sinking feeling that whatever reason Snape got punished by Voldemort tonight had to do with the snare in their relationship, which could have been completely avoided if only he'd given his professor a chance. He still felt confused and hurt about what had happened so long ago, but he was now more than willing to let Snape explain.

The tremors in Severus' body were becoming few and far between, and the wizard was more than grateful. As the immense pain subsided and he could think clearly once again, he decided it was time to try and sit up. Gently tugging himself out of Harry's arms, he began to raise himself onto his elbows.

Harry immediately went to stop his professor, his hands not leaving Snape's shoulders.

"Sir, don't you think you should lie still for a while?"

Severus was close to sending a biting remark back at the boy, but one look into Harry's concerned and very guilty eyes made him rethink the situation.

"It's fine, Harry, really," he said softly. At the boy's look of disbelief, he continued. "Remember a while back when I told you it was best to move after enduring such torture? This occurrence is no different."

Harry swallowed and nodded quickly. "Okay, but I'm going to help you."

Severus smirked. "I'm sure you will, Harry."

Harry grabbed onto the older wizard gently, wrapping an arm around Snape's back and helping him stand slowly. Severus' legs were shaking beneath him, but with Harry's support, the professor was able to make it to his feet. In the process, Snape had wrapped one arm over Harry's shoulder as well, and so the two were in a semi-embrace as they stood, looking at one another.

As Harry stared into the relief-filled black eyes of his professor, he began to feel guilt wash over him, even stronger this time.

"Sir, I- I don't even know what to say," he began pathetically. He looked down as he felt his emotions surfacing. He had come so close to losing the wizard before him today, all because he was too hot-headed to give the man a chance to explain.

When he looked up again with eyes that stung, Snape met him with a look he had seen only a couple times before: the first being when Harry had almost fallen to his death from his broom. Recognizing the look immediately, the Boy-Who-Lived felt his eyes brimming with tears of happiness. Even after all that had transpired that week, his professor still…

"I'm so sorry," Harry all but whispered, lowering his head again.

Harry had barely gotten the words out before he felt his professor's other arm reach around his back swiftly, and he was being pulled into a tight embrace. A sob escaped his throat before he could help himself, and he pulled his professor as close as possible.

He had come so close to losing him again…

Holding the boy in his arms once again, and feeling Harry reciprocate his affections like before, was almost too much to take. Severus rested his cheek on the teenager's mussed up hair so that he was effectively wrapped around Harry protectively.

"This… did not go according to plan," he muffled into the teenager's hair.

Harry raised his head, blinking back tears over a confused expression. "Plan?"

Snape could only smile sadly, gently pulling Harry's head back down so that it rested on his shoulder once again.

"Harry, you and I are in need of a long overdue talk."

To be continued…

A/N: Beta-ed by Sindie


	8. Snape's Song

Chapter 8: Snape's Song

"Let's take a walk."

Harry could only look up at his professor and, upon seeing the serious expression on the older man's face, nod his head in assent.

The Boy-Who-Lived followed dutifully as Snape led him out of his quarters and up the long staircase. He continued behind the long, billowing cloak through the semi-empty halls of Hogwarts and wondered briefly where his mentor might be taking him. He wasn't paying much attention to their exact location in the castle, as his mind was mainly consumed by where the walk would eventually lead them both physically, and more important, mentally.

Eventually, Harry's eyes ventured from Professor Snape's back to look upon the large, intimidating entrance doors to the castle. The unlikely companions then made their way through the doors and out into the cool, crisp air that was Hogwarts grounds in fall.

It was completely dark out, as the days had been getting shorter, and thus, the sun had set about an hour ago. Harry briefly worried about being caught outside after dark, before the realization set in that for once, because he was with a professor, he wasn't breaking any rules.

Crossing his arms over his chest, thankful that he had put a sweatshirt on that day, Harry jogged a few steps so that he was now walking side by side with Professor Snape. He looked at the older wizard's profile and watched as Snape glanced at him out of the corner of his eye before looking straight forward again.

"Sir?" Harry tried.

"Not yet, Potter."

Harry felt confused. If this was to be such a private conversation, why not stay in the man's personal chambers?

The pair continued on over the rolling hills and finally, onto the winding trails through the Forbidden Forest.

Harry always felt a bit on edge in the woods and decided that he had every reason to. Nothing good ever came out of the Forbidden Forest.

The Boy-Who-Lived heard the leaves crunching beneath their feet with each step. He looked at the trees overhead, their bare branches passing underneath the light of the pale moon.

The uncertainty of their destination made it seem to Harry as though they were walking for a good hour, but it had realistically only been about fifteen minutes. He was beginning to feel restless and was about to chance asking his professor how much longer it would be when Snape abruptly turned off the trail and vanished into some thick underbrush. Harry quickly followed, but kept his distance so that the branches and shrubs that Snape passed by wouldn't whip him in the face. The brush was so thick that the Boy-Who-Lived kept his arms in front of him as a protective barrier. It wasn't too much longer before they entered a small clearing, and if Harry hadn't been concerned with brushing all of the needles and broken twigs off of his clothing, he would have noticed the secluded area sooner.

It was beautiful. In the distance, the harvest moon shone brightly over mountain peaks. The vast lake stretched out between where they stood and the mountains, as smooth as glass for the moment, but still sparkling as though diamonds grazed its surface. The small clearing they were in was no larger than Harry's bedroom back on Privet Drive, but the small size made it that much more private.

Professor Snape walked around a large boulder in the center and disappeared from site as he sat down in front of it, facing the lake.

Harry walked around the other side of the boulder and smiled to himself for a moment before taking a seat next to his professor. It was, after all, unlike Professor Snape to just plop down in the grass.

The pair sat in silence for a few minutes, gazing out over the stunning landscape. Harry was beginning to appreciate how impossibly quiet it was here, when Snape decided to break the silence.

"I found this spot one day during my first year at Hogwarts."

Harry couldn't help the smirk that came to his lips.

"You knew the Forbidden Forest was off limits to students, didn't you, Professor Snape?" the teenager gently chided.

Snape smiled softly.

"You don't have to be a Gryffindor to break rules, Potter."

Harry smiled back, happy to hear that he and Snape had more in common. It seemed every time they had a serious conversation, Harry would discover something else the two shared.

The professor then looked at the teenager seriously. "You also don't have to be the Boy-Who-Lived to feel like an outcast, to need a place to hide from it all."

"So you do understand," Harry stated after a long pause. "All these years I truly thought you believed I enjoyed the… _fame_ that came with having a death sentence over my head."

Severus nodded. "I may have thought that at first, when I assumed you were an attention seeking, bull-headed, glory hound like your fath-" Snape abruptly cut himself off with a small grimace.

Harry nodded slowly. He knew that his father used to be just that, and he also knew that it was taking a great deal of restraint from his professor to cut himself off mid-rant when James Potter was practically the bane of his existence back then. He decided to take Snape's self-control as it was: a clear sign that their relationship was improving, and not try to discuss his father with him.

"I shouldn't have said that, Harry," Snape began, shaking his head at himself. "It's hard thinking about your mother because it fills me with such happiness, and then…"

Harry looked at his professor's saddened features as the older wizard trailed off.

"And then it makes you think about my father, and the happy feelings are driven off," Harry finished quietly.

Severus nodded, and Harry looked forward.

"So this place makes you think of my mum?"

Snape took a deep breath. It was hard to even think about telling Harry everything he planned on saying, but it was the whole reason he brought the boy here.

"In the beginning, when your mother and I were best friends, she was the only person I ever brought to this spot. Until now, of course…" he added with a smirk.

Harry smiled back, excited not only at the prospect of his professor finally telling him more about his mum, but the fact that Snape trusted him enough to bring him here. He was hoping his professor would go into more detail about what happened between them, when an unsettling thought crossed his mind.

"So… you and my mum came here a lot then, did you?" he asked slowly.

Snape nodded.

"…Just the two of you?" Harry asked carefully.

Snape smirked, as he could sense the conclusion Harry's teenage, hormone-driven brain was coming to.

"Relax, Harry. We were just friends, and if it so happened that we were more, do you really think me that twisted to take you to our potential snogging site?"

Harry chuckled. "No, not _that_ twisted," he came back. "So, how did you manage to talk a rule-following, goody two-shoes, teacher's pet Gryffindor into following you to the Forbidden Forest?" the Boy-Who-Lived asked with a laugh.

Snape chuckled. "You mean, like the countless times you've talked Ms. Granger into the exact same thing?"

Harry blushed. "Well, that's a little different. We were always trying to-"

Snape waved Harry off. "I don't care to hear your excuses, Potter," he said with a grin. "And it wasn't hard," Snape continued. "That was back when she trusted me."

Harry frowned as Snape did, his next question coming out before he could stop himself.

"What made her stop trusting you?"

Snape sighed deeply. "You witnessed it, Harry. Your father and his friends wouldn't leave me alone, and your mother was only trying to help me." Snape lowered his head in sorrow. "What do you think Ms. Granger's reaction would have been if you called her what I called your mother?"

Harry watched his professor carefully, not fully convinced. "Hermione would have been livid for sure, but she would have known deep down that I didn't mean it, just as I_know_you didn't mean it. Sir…"

Snape looked up, and for the first time since the pair left the castle, obsidian eyes met emerald ones, and Severus knew what was about to be asked of him.

Harry took a deep breath at the pain he saw in his professor's eyes, but his Gryffindor bravery pushed him forward.

"Please, tell me what happened. Tell me everything."

Severus's dark eyes closed, and a look of determination crossed his features as he nodded slowly.

"As I believe I've let slip before, I knew your mother before we went to Hogwarts."

Harry nodded in agreement. He remembered the conversation Snape spoke of verbatim. It was the first time Harry had witnessed Snape returning from a Death Eater meeting, and the man had had a bit too much to drink while he and Harry talked next to the fire.

"I watched your mother and your aunt play together," Snape continued. "I noticed that she was capable of doing magic, only she didn't know it yet. When I got her to talk to me again, days after I told her she was a witch, we became good friends.

"I didn't have the greatest home life, much like you, Harry. My mother was a witch, and my father was a Muggle. He wanted nothing to do with me, or my mother for that matter, and she never did anything to defend us against him."

Harry listened intently, his eyes never leaving his professor's face. He wondered to himself what was worse: losing loving parents before you ever had the chance to know them or having both parents as you grew up, but they could care less that you existed.

"Did your parents treat you as my aunt and uncle treated me?" Harry asked softly.

"My mother fed me well enough, I suppose; I wasn't starved by any means. We were far from wealthy, so I assume she did the best she could with what we had. My father, however…" Snape paused as he looked at Harry. "He acted very much the way your uncle does, yes."

Harry nodded, his brow furrowing in anger. He felt resentment of the worst kind toward a man he had never even met, for hurting his professor. And why was it, Harry wondered to himself, that he could get so mad for his professor's sake, but be so apathetic about his own mistreatment?

"Also as you did, I could not wait to go to Hogwarts," Snape continued with a small smile. "Hogwarts meant working on my magic, meeting more people like me, and finally knowing what it was to be accepted. The problem was, I had a rather difficult time with the latter."

"Because of my father and his friends, right?" Harry asked dejectedly.

"They weren't the only problem, Harry," Snape answered seriously. "I was sorted in Slytherin, and my best friend was not only a Gryffindor, but Muggle-born as well. You can imagine how I was caught in the middle. I wanted to be with my Slytherin friends, as I admired their qualities and wanted to learn Dark Magic to defend myself against your father and his friends. Your mother, however, was the only person I felt truly happy with. My friendship with her grew less strong with each year, as she did not approve of the wizards I befriended and was worried for me as the path I was taking grew darker and darker. She was, of course, right in the end, but when I was with my fellow Slytherins, I finally felt accepted."

Harry exhaled deeply, realizing how hard it was for his professor. "If it weren't for the Slytherins you were with, you would have been not only unaccepted at home, but felt the same way at Hogwarts. Then when you lost my mum's friendship… well, I can definitely understand how you were practically forced into the dark path that led you to Voldemort, sir."

Severus scowled. "We make our own decisions, Harry. I would not have been a Death Eater if I had not _chosen_ to do so."

"I understand that, sir," Harry replied quickly. "But maybe if you had been sorted into another house… not necessarily Gryffindor, but Ravenclaw-"

"_I_am responsible for my own actions, Harry!" Snape growled loudly, causing the Boy-Who-Lived to jump.

"Yes, sir," Harry replied with wide eyes. "But don't you think that sometimes fate has a hand in our future?"

"_Fate?"_Snape questioned as though the word left a bad taste in his mouth. "I do not believe in such nonsense. I believe only in the power of my own mind and the decisions I make with it. _This,_ Harry, was no accident!"

Harry's eyes went wide as Snape pulled back his sleeve and brandished, for the first time to Harry, the Dark Mark that lay upon his forearm.

The teenage wizard gazed at the mark, almost hypnotized by the serpentine figure, before looking into his professor's anguish-filled eyes.

"Sometimes I wonder if the things I did were just to be different," Snape said quietly, breaking the silence. "To spare myself of the constant shame of my existence."

"Sir…" Harry began carefully, "it was a mistake, you said so yourself. You were young and confused-"

"_You_ are young, Harry. Can you picture yourself with this abomination on your flesh?"

"Well… no, but I-"

"Then you would do well to stop making excuses for me," Snape snarled.

Harry sighed deeply. "Professor Dumbledore is right…" he mumbled under his breath.

"What was that?" Snape demanded.

"I said Dumbledore is right, sir. You are too hard on yourself. You fight everyday against the enemy to make up for your mistakes. You are tortured and bow to the whim of a madman, play a double-life, and accomplish a dozen other amazing feats everyday in order to make amends!" Harry was beginning to get angry now, mad at his professor's unwillingness to see the good in himself. "Don't you see?" he shouted, grabbing his professor's wrist and holding the Dark Mark up between them. "_This_ is no longer something to be ashamed of. This only proves how brave you are, day in and day out. Your courage outweighs that of any Gryffindor I know! You, Severus Snape, are the bravest man I've ever met!"

The silence that hung in the air was deafening. The two simply stared at each other for several moments before something in Snape's eyes cleared and the older wizard pulled his wrist out of Harry's grasp. He ran a shaky hand through his hair before standing abruptly and turning away from the Boy-Who-Lived.

Snape could tell by looking into Harry's eyes, _knew_ that the boy meant what he said. The truth of it meant more to him than he could ever express. The fact that someone in his life, even after hearing the whole horrible reality of his existence, could still look up to him… it was beyond his understanding.

"There's something else," Harry began, now standing and facing his professor's back. "The reason I got so angry with you, sir. The night you told Voldemort the prophecy-"

Snape turned around quickly, his expression full of regret. "I did not hear names, Harry. I overheard the prophecy and knew it would put me in good graces with Voldemort if I passed it on to him." Snape shook his head, his eyes closing painfully. "Don't you understand, Harry? I was a monster. No, I didn't know it was the person I cared for most who I was dooming, but I still knew that I was going to cause the death of _someone_. And yet, I was willing to do it so long as I ranked higher with the Dark Lord! How could you possibly still think me good?"

Harry gazed at his professor's downcast eyes. He placed his hand on Snape's shoulder, and when the older wizard raised his head, Harry gave him a small smile. "You said it yourself, sir. That was in the past. To always be good, well, it's not always easy, but it's all I've ever known. To do what you've done, from being Voldemort's right-hand man to using that power for good without the darkest of all wizards suspecting a thing, to joining a side where almost no one respects you because they think you're still evil, to having to pretend you _are_ still evil and having the respect of those you don't want it from, all the while having to teach a Gryffindor brat all that you know to prepare him for the future," Harry squeezed his professor's shoulder tightly. "What kind of person should I look up to if not a man who could admit he was wrong and do all in his power to make it right?"

Snape inhaled deeply, leaning his head back to gaze up at the starry sky. "You are so like your mother," he breathed. _And it's my fault you'll never know her_, his thoughts added. His fists clenched with resolve before he lowered his head to meet Harry's eyes. "I don't believe I have done anything to truly earn your respect, but I vow to you that before this is all over, I will have proven my worth."

Harry squeezed his professor's shoulder again, wanting to tell him that he already was beyond worthy in his eyes. He wanted to say a hundred things, but for some reason, the words that were forming in his head did not do justice to how he truly felt. Snape seemed to sense Harry's inward struggle and began to raise his own arm, but for what, Harry wouldn't know, as a booming voice called through the trees.

"Who's back there?"

Harry looked to Snape, and the older wizard rolled his eyes.

"Hagrid?" Harry called with a smile.

"'Arry? S'that you?" Hagrid called back. Neither wizard could see the half-giant yet, only hear his heavy breathing and the moving brush as he made his way toward them.

"I knew I should have cast _Muffliato_," Severus said under his breath.

Harry nudged him with his elbow, smirking as he called back to Hagrid. "Yes, it's me!"

"You all righ'? I heard shoutin' earlier an-"

Hagrid's larger than life form appeared through the underbrush, and he looked from Harry to Professor Snape.

"Oh. 'ello Professor Snape," he said meekly, understanding now that he was interrupting something.

Severus nodded, an annoyed expression on his face.

"Sorry, er… I heard noises earlier an', well, m'not used to hearing voices ou' here, 'specially after dark…"

Harry smiled at his friend, patting him reassuringly on his arm. "It's okay, Hagrid. Isn't it, Professor?" Harry added, looking at Snape pointedly as Hagrid kept glancing nervously at the older wizard.

Snape did his best to uncurl his lips to a more appeasing expression. The result looked a bit like he had just swallowed a bogey flavored Every Flavor Bean and was trying to pretend it tasted good.

Harry snorted in laughter, shaking his head at the older wizard. "Don't worry, Hagrid," he began with a smile as he turned the half-giant and began leading him out of the secluded spot. "Professor Snape is just a little cranky this evening."

"But," Hagrid began with a glance back at Snape, "tha's how he always- OW, 'arry, whadya do tha' for?"

"What?" Harry asked innocently, glancing back at Snape's furious expression. "Oh, sorry about that; my mistake, Hagrid." The Boy-Who-Lived continued to talk quickly, all but shoving his friend forward. "Well, have a good night, and I'll stop by to see you tomorrow. How's that sound?"

Hagrid smiled down at Harry, the two of them now out of Snape's sight. "Sounds good 'arry. Is he…?" Hagrid trailed off, gesturing in Snape's direction.

Harry waved him off. "Don't worry about him. He'll get over it. Goodnight, Hagrid."

"G'nigh'," the half giant said as he smiled, waving as he walked back toward his hut.

Harry made his way back through the brush, finding Snape standing where he left him, his arms folded across his chest.

"You could have _tried_ to be a bit nicer, don't you think?" Harry asked pointedly.

"Considering the importance of the conversation he interrupted," Snape began with irritation, "I'd say I was the perfect gentlemen."

Harry rolled his eyes. "He didn't know he was interrupting, and he was only doing his job."

Severus sighed in exasperation. "I'll just add him to my list of people Harry Potter wants me to apologize to then, shall I?"

Harry couldn't help but smile. "That would be great, Professor."

"Wonderful," came Snape's sarcastic reply. The wizard's lips then quirked in amusement as he walked forward and grabbed Harry's shoulder, leading the teenager out of the secluded area.

As the pair walked back toward Hogwarts, Snape's mind went over everything that had been said that night, and everything that hadn't. Harry still had no idea of Dumbledore's current condition, and Snape decided that, for the time being, it was better that way. The teenager, however, still had an important lesson to learn that night, and when the two had reached Snape's quarters once again, Severus decided that the time for a lecture had arrived.

"Harry…" Snape's voice trailed off and Harry looked up from his spot on Snape's couch.

"Uh-oh," Harry began seriously. "I know that tone."

Seeing that he had the boy's attention, Severus sat in the chair opposite Harry and looked him in the eye. "I hope that tonight has illustrated the importance of being able to control your emotions. Your unwillingness to listen when you are angry almost cost me my life."

Harry closed his eyes tightly, and when they reopened, the emerald orbs were filled with guilt. "Sir, I'm so sor-"

Snape held up a hand, effectively silencing the younger wizard. "I know you are sorry, Harry, but that is not what I want to hear from you."

Harry nodded in understanding. "You're right, sir. I will work on controlling my emotions; you have my word."

Snape smiled, satisfied, as he rose from his chair. "Then, there is something I want you to have."

Harry smiled back, watching his professor with a bemused expression as the older wizard left the room. When he returned, he was carrying something in his hand. What it was, Harry didn't know, as Snape kept it hidden.

Severus sat down next to Harry and opened his hand, revealing a gold ring, with the Gryffindor lion embellished on its surface.

Harry gazed up at his professor quizzically. "Where did you get this?"

Now it was Snape's turn to look guilty. "I… well, I took it, Harry. After your parents were attacked and I had learned Lily was gone, I went into your old house and found this ring on a dresser. It-it belonged to your mother."

Harry stared at the ring, speechless as a wave of emotion grew inside of him.

"I know that I shouldn't have taken it," Snape continued quickly. "It was basically stealing, but I figured that if I hadn't, it would have been stolen by someone whose intent was to pawn it off, and it would have been lost forever."

Harry looked to his professor, a small, sad smile on his lips. "No, I'm glad you took it, sir. I know what this means to you, and to anyone else it would have been just another gold ring." Harry paused, taking in a deep, shuddering breath. "Are you sure you want to give this to me?"

Snape smirked, putting the ring into Harry's palm. "It's rightfully yours, Potter."

Harry nodded. "Maybe, sir, but I can see how important-"

"Harry," Snape interjected seriously, "it belonged to your mother; it should belong to you now. Anyway, I don't plan on losing _you_ anytime soon; therefore, it will always be within reach, won't it?"

Harry smiled at Snape, putting the ring on his pinky, as it was the only finger his mother's ring would fit on. He closed his eyes as he did, swearing he could somehow feel his mother's presence through the ring. The sensation was so powerful, and as he opened his eyes to see his professor watching him, a small smile on his face, he wished he could voice how important the gesture was. How it was the greatest gift he had ever received. But, as the Boy-Who-Lived grasped his professor and held him tightly, all he could manage was a muffled "Thank you" into the man's shoulder.

As Severus Snape embraced Harry Potter back, those two small words were all that he needed, and more.

To be continued…

A/N: Beta-ed by Sindie


	9. Catching Up

Chapter 9: Catching Up

"Harry, what's that?"

The Boy-Who-Lived looked up from his oatmeal, his eyebrows knitted with confusion as he regarded his bushy-haired friend.

"What's what?"

Hermione rolled her eyes as she grabbed Harry's hand. "_This_," she came back, looking at his new ring pointedly.

Harry's expression remained one of confusion. "Hermione," he began slowly. "I've been wearing that for two weeks, and you're just now noticing?"

"You have? That's impossible…" The young witch trailed off, clearly as confused as Harry that she could be so unobservant about something for so long.

"Actually it's true," Harry continued with a laugh. "Jeez, Hermione, I expected Ron not to notice, but _you_…"

Hermione huffed. "Well, I'm sorry, Harry, but I have been rather busy lately. And so have you, in fact. I've barely seen you at all!"

Harry smirked at his friend. "Well, I guess the, uh, _remedial_… potions lessons have been wearing on me lately," he said with a shrug.

Hermione frowned. "Is everything okay?"

"What? Yeah, yeah," Harry insisted, waving her concern off. "It's actually going brilliantly; Snape says I'm getting much better."

"That's wonderful!" The witch smiled at her friend before a concerned look crossed her features once more. "So then, why do you look so tired?"

Harry shrugged. "Professor Snape said that once I proved being capable of blocking his 'mind intrusion' during the lessons, that my brain would be more susceptible while sleeping."

"So you're having nightmares again?"

Harry sighed at his friend's worried tone. "Yes, Hermione, but it's only temporary."

"Professor Snape said that?"

"No, Hermione, _Ron_ did."

Hermione bristled at Harry's sarcasm. "There's no need to be rude; I'm only watching out for you," she finished seriously before adding, "Does Professor Snape know about the nightmares?"

"Hermione, I just told you-"

"You told me he said to _expect_ nightmares; does he know that you are actually having them?"

Harry looked defeated. "No, okay? I haven't told him."

The young witch appeared torn. She knew Harry wanted her to drop it, but she felt it was important and that Harry needed to see that.

"I just really think you should bring it to his attention, that's all," she spit out.

Harry only nodded, not meeting his friend's eyes, as he went back to his oatmeal.

Hermione bit her lip at the awkward silence that now hovered above the two. "So you never answered my earlier question. Where did that ring come from?" she asked, truly curious and wanting to change the subject.

"Oh," Harry said, a smile now on his face. "Well, you can't tell anyone about it, obviously. Everyone else who's been asking me I've just been telling that it was my mum's and leaving it at that. But the truth is…" Harry leaned in and lowered his voice, "Professor Snape gave it to me."

Hermione's eyebrows shot up. "Professor… but why would he have something of your mother's?"

"I can't really get into it right now," Harry said as he motioned to the numerous students that surrounded them, "for obvious reasons. But apparently, they were friends and he's had the ring for all these years."

"Really?"

Harry laughed and wondered if Hermione's eyes could get any bigger. "I would love to tell you the whole complicated story, but Snape would probably murder me, and we're about to be late for class."

Hermione jumped out of her seat. "You're right! Oh, no! Come on, Harry!" the young witch called over her shoulder as she went sprinting out of the Great Hall.

Harry laughed, shaking his head as he grabbed his things and took off after his friend.

* * *

"Severus."

Snape inwardly winced. The words came softly and with no hint of accusation, but were still spoken in such a way as to make the Potions master fill with guilt. Wordlessly, he kept his back to the older man and continued stirring his latest potion.

A whisper of robes could be heard as they moved across the floor, and then he felt a warm hand on his shoulder.

"It is quite discourteous to tell someone you will do one thing, and then blatantly do another."

Snape's eyes narrowed. "Are you referring to my absence at our scheduled meeting this afternoon, or your own failure to follow simple instructions?" he questioned with a pointed look at the shriveled hand placed on his shoulder.

Albus Dumbledore sighed, removing his hand and continuing to gaze at the man who still refused to meet his eyes.

"Why are you so angry with me, my boy? Is it because I've put my life on the line to destroy a possibly meaningless object?"

Snape stiffened. "You shouldn't have put your life on the line at all! I told you to leave that blasted ring alone, Albus."

"I'm an old man, Severus. Exceptionally old, in fact, and I'm not going to be around forever."

"You've certainly made sure of that."

"When my time comes to leave this world, I will do so knowing I have helped bring an end to the reign of the darkest wizard of all time."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Albus."

The room was silent for a few moments, and then, "You are going to be okay, Severus."

Snape shook his head, closing his eyes tightly as he still refused to look at the older wizard.

Dumbledore placed his hand on Snape's shoulder again, then placed his other hand on Snape's remaining shoulder and gently turned the Potions master so that they were now facing each other.

"Listen to me, my boy. We both knew something like this was bound to happen. We had discussed it, numerous times, in fact. You cannot fight such evil and not expect a casualty along the way."

Severus finally opened his eyes, and the furious look Albus was expecting was absent. Instead, he saw sadness, a sorrow so deep, Dumbledore found his own eyes glued to the obsidian pools before him.

"I know," came the simple, quiet reply. "I _know_. I just, I was not expecting it so soon. And I especially did not expect it to be you. I thought for sure I'd be gone long before…"

"Before you had to witness the death of another friend?" Albus supplied gently.

Snape clenched his fists. "You are not making this any easier."

"I am sorry, my boy," Dumbledore placated. "I only meant to illustrate that I understand what you are feeling."

"Fury beyond words?" Snape shot back. "Helplessness beyond contemplation? You mean _those_ feelings?" he questioned angrily, stepping back out of Dumbledore's grasp.

Albus sighed. "Severus, please, I am not trying to anger you further. What's done is done. Whether my harsh act had purpose or really was for nothing, do you really want to spend the rest of our time together detesting me?"

"You know what infuriates me the most, Albus?" Snape inquired quietly, completely ignoring the question posed by the other wizard. "You always seem to be right. You make it seem like sheer dumb luck half the time, and the other half everyone assumes it's a coincidence that your wilder flights of fancy turn out beneficial in the end."

Dumbledore's face held a puzzled expression, but there was a proverbial twinkle in his eyes all the same. "What do you mean, Severus?"

Snape raised his head, a keen expression now visible from behind his dark hair. "Do not patronize me any longer, old man. You _knew_. I don't know how; I don't even know if_you_ knew how, whether it was subconscious or just a hunch…"

The headmaster coughed politely, interrupting Snape's rambling so that the younger wizard would get to his point.

Snape sighed. "The ring _was_ a Horcrux, Albus. I found out the other night."

Dumbledore nodded slowly, as if deeply considering the statement, with the hint of a smile in his blue eyes. "And you were going to keep this precious information from me for how much longer?"

A culpable expression flashed quickly over Snape, one that made him appear as a small child who had been caught breaking the rules. "I hadn't decided yet," he replied hastily, turning back to his potion.

"But this is wonderful news, Severus," Dumbledore declared with a smile.

"Yes. Wonderful." Snape came back in his best monotone.

"Are you not the least bit happy, my boy?"

"When that monster is dead, Albus, only _then_ will you see me happy," he replied, directing a fierce look at his mentor. The Potions master then turned back to his work, pouring his concoction into separate vials. "While he lives and continues to take away that which is most precious to me… well, pardon me if I don't skip with glee and join you in celebratory lemon drops and tea."

Dumbledore sighed sadly. "I am sorry, Severus, sorry for what I am putting you through. But I cannot apologize for my actions if my sacrifice helps to stop Voldemort. I would choose to do it over and over again if it means that in the end I have helped you, Harry, and stopped the wizarding world from having to live in terror." The older wizard squeezed the shoulder of the man who still faced away from him, who was now corking his potion vials. "I hope you can understand and find it in your heart to forgive me."

Severus stopped what he was doing and closed his eyes tightly. The truth was he had already forgiven Albus. The older man's impeccable logic and heroic intentions had certainly added reason to the choice he had already made, but he would not voice his decision, not yet. Forgiven or not, he was still angry with the older wizard and was not quite ready to let his mentor off the hook. '_Besides_,' Snape thought to himself bitterly, '_Albus probably already knows he's forgiven. The man should take over Trelawney's position. Maybe then the students would actually learn what it means to have insight_.'

"Severus?"

"When do you plan on telling Potter the truth?" Snape asked quickly, picking the perfect topic to change the subject. "Contrary to what I used to believe, he's not a gormless twit, Albus, and I'm getting quite tired of having to lie to the boy on your behalf."

Dumbledore frowned. "What have you been telling him?"

"Only that I don't know anything, and you'd better believe that he knows better than to swallow any of that tripe."

The headmaster smiled to himself. "Indeed. From what I've gathered, he's learning to be quite perceptive, thanks to a certain professor of his."

"Yes, Minerva _can_ be rather intuitive."

Dumbledore's smile spread as his one-time student continued his reputation of not being able to take a compliment. "I was not talking about Minerva, dear boy." The headmaster received a noncommittal shrug in response and sighed. "As to Harry, I will explain everything to him soon, but also when the time is right."

After receiving no response from his Potions master yet again, Albus sighed to himself. "Well, I suppose I shall take my leave then. Perhaps the next time we converse, it will not consist of my talking at the back of your head."

"Perhaps."

Albus smirked and began walking toward the fireplace. He stopped thoughtfully for a moment, before turning and addressing the younger wizard once again.

"You know what this means, don't you?"

Snape sighed. Despite the vagueness of the question, he knew exactly what it was Albus was referring to, as it had been weighing heavily on his mind as well.

"Are you referring to the fact that the last Horcrux is undoubtedly the Dark Lord's snake, Nagini? Yes, I realized that."

Albus nodded. "He knows that his journal was destroyed; if he finds out that the ring has been, too-"

"He'll come looking for Harry before we're ready for him. Yes, Albus, I know."

Dumbledore breathed deeply. "I know you are making good progress with the boy, Severus. Harry _has_ been keeping me updated. You are doing wonderfully, and I truly commend you for it."

"Your gratitude is unnecessary."

"Maybe," Albus replied thoughtfully. "But it is mine to give, and I cannot think of anyone else quite so deserving."

Snape snorted. "Not even your Golden-?"

The Potions master was cut off as Dumbledore disappeared in a wash of green flames.

"Old codger and his imprudent praise," he mumbled under his breath affectionately.

Exhaling slowly, Snape then began setting up his work area for the next potion he needed to begin work on, a Strengthening Solution. As he set about collecting various items from his stores, some pomegranate juice and salamander blood, he suddenly heard what sounded like timid knocking on the door. He decided to ignore the sound, as he was not particularly in the mood for any more visitors, when he heard it again moments later, and louder than before.

Sighing, he placed his ingredients on a table and walked across the room. He threw the door open so quickly, the action elicited a gasp of surprise from his visitor.

"Ms. Granger?" Snape questioned, the expression on his face showing his surprise at finding her there.

"Hello, Professor," she came back with a smile. "I'm not interrupting you, am I?"

Snape considered the question carefully. Well, not the question so much as the implication that he could turn her away if he so desired. Looking into the girl's hopeful eyes, however, he sighed as he realized he found his answer.

"No, not yet, anyway. What can I do for you?" he asked, stepping aside to allow the witch to enter.

"It's what you already did do for me, sir." Hermione smiled as she walked by the older wizard. "I wanted to stop by to thank you for the book!"

Severus nodded, a small smile gracing his lips. He had sent the witch a book on runes as a way to thank her for her assistance with getting Harry to talk to him again.

"I trust you are finding it engaging?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh, yes!" she came back happily. "I absolutely love it! How did you know, sir? I've been wanting that book for ages!"

Snape smirked. "Potter may have let it slip that you've been going on about it. I hope you did not mind that it was a bit worn…"

"No!" Hermione insisted. "I know how impossibly hard that book is to come by! How did you manage to find a copy?"

"It wasn't too hard," Snape replied with an impish grin. "I only had to walk about fifteen feet that way," he added, gesturing to his office.

Hermione looked stunned. "Yours? I mean to say, you gave me a book from your own collection? Oh, Professor Snape, I couldn't possibly accept it now!"

A look of mild irritation crossed Snape's face. "Oh, yes, after witnessing how happy the gift has made you, I now entirely plan on taking it back."

"Please don't think I'm being ungrateful!" Hermione insisted. "It's probably the nicest, most thoughtful gift I've ever received."

Snape suddenly felt himself grow warm with embarrassment. "Surely that's an exaggeration, Ms. Granger. Mr. Potter pointed out that you wanted it; I just so happened to have it, and so I decided to give it to you."

Hermione still looked unsure. "You're sure you don't need it, sir?"

"I would think the condition of the book would prove to you that I've been through it numerous times. I've practically got the damned thing memorized," he added.

Hermione grinned. "It's a wonderful book, sir. Thank you very much," she said meaningfully.

"You're quite welcome, and, as I recall, I owed you," he replied with a grin. "Now, if that's all, I really should be getting back to work."

Hermione couldn't help but let her curiosity get the best of her. "If you don't mind my asking, sir, what is it that you're working on?"

Severus gestured for her to follow him, and he led them to one of the many tables in the Potions lab. "That cauldron over there, with the silver liquid, is the Invigoration Draught. That one has been brewing for quite some time and is an especially large pain in my arse," Snape added with annoyance. He then gestured to the ingredients in front of them. "These are for a Strengthening Solution, which I was about to begin before you came knocking."

Hermione nodded enthusiastically, absorbing the information as she usually did, like water into a sponge. She was biting her lip thoughtfully, watching her professor pour the pomegranate juice into the cauldron as she considered whether or not she should even suggest what she was pondering. Deciding that there was no harm in it, she voiced her thoughts.

"Sir, do you think it would be okay if I maybe helped you with brewing once in a while? I've always been very interested in potions and would love the opportunity to work on them with you when you're not required to help twenty other students," she finished with a hopeful grin.

Severus slowly turned to face the witch, revealing a pained expression on his face as he considered the proposal.

"I'm sorry, you're right," Hermione amended quickly. "It was a stupid idea. What would you want my help for, right?"

The young witch then turned on her heel, embarrassed, and quickly headed for the exit.

"Ms. Granger, wait one moment," Snape called after her.

Hermione hesitated; there was something in her professor's voice that was convincing her to turn around.

"You misunderstood my hesitation," Snape began, addressing the wide, curious eyes of his student. "I am exceedingly glad that you have such enthusiasm for the subject, and I would certainly love- ah, that is to say, I wouldn't mind having an assistant with some of the more difficult preparations…" Snape trailed off, clearly at odds with how to deal with this peculiar situation. Never in his life would he dream that a student of _his_ would actually volunteer to spend more time with him, and a Gryffindor at that!

At Hermione's expectant look, Severus forced himself to continue his explanation.

"Ms. Granger, it's not that I do not want your help. However, with the way times are right now, it may not be the wisest choice."

Hermione nodded, understanding exactly what it was her professor was saying. "If someone, say Draco, for instance, were to notice my frequenting your potions lab, it would look far too suspicious. And you couldn't simply play it off as my having detention what with, well… the fact that I-"

"Never receive detention because of your consistently stellar academic performance? Yes, I understand what you're driving at," Severus added with a smirk.

Hermione blushed. It was so nice to receive compliments from Professor Snape. She smiled to herself as she thought about how she could get used to it.

"Is something amusing, Ms. Granger?"

"What? Oh! No, sorry, sir; my mind was just wandering, I guess," she added lamely, now more embarrassed than before.

"Hmm," Snape replied, eyeing the girl warily. '_She certainly is acting strange today. Why does she keep blushing? I really hope this has nothing to do with that so called "crush" Potter was mentioning_.'

Snape's thoughts were interrupted as a ginger colored blur knocked a cauldron over, effectively spilling the silver potion Snape had been working on for days all over the floor.

"Crookshanks, no!" Hermione called out.

The young witch snatched her cat up off the table, before it could manage to walk in the silvery puddle, scolding it as she did so. She then looked to Professor Snape miserably as the wizard began cleaning up the spill. "Professor Snape, I'm _so_ sorry," she began apologizing, feeling absolutely terrible.

"I do believe I had set up the 'No animals in the Potions Lab' rule for a reason, Ms. Granger," he came back with irritation, trying not to completely lose his patience.

Hermione nodded. "I know, I'm sorry; I had no idea he followed me down here! _Bad_Crookshanks," she added, now looking at the tabby in her arms. "Why aren't you in Gryffindor Tower where you belong?"

Snape watched with mild amusement as the witch scolded her cat. "You know that animal can't possibly understand a word you're saying, do you not?"

Hermione looked slightly affronted. "Of course I know that, sir. But animals can tell by the tone of your voice if you are displeased with them. Surely you've realized this at some point over the years while teaching Crabbe and Goyle?"

Severus snorted in surprise and amusement at the girl's quip and began chuckling despite himself.

Hermione's eyes widened so much, she felt as though they may pop right out of her head. Had she really just made Professor Snape _laugh_?

The moment lasted far too short, however, as Snape now smirked at the teenage witch. "Point well taken, Ms. Granger," he said, now stepping closer to the girl to get a better look at her cat. He narrowed his eyes thoughtfully as he took in the long, red hair and the flat, almost squished looking face of the feline. "He really isn't much to look at, is he?"

Snape almost immediately regretted the question, as he saw hurt flash in Hermione's eyes.

"Just because he doesn't resemble what the majority would call 'handsome' doesn't mean that I don't see him that way," she came back defensively.

Severus eyed her with a puzzled expression for a few moments before responding with a simple "I see."

Hermione swallowed nervously and looked away from her professor's gaze. What was wrong with her? Why was she acting like such a prat around the man? She really needed to get a grip.

"Well, sir," she began speaking quickly. "I'm sorry again for the mess. I'd offer to help clean it up, but it looks like you've already got most of it, so I'll just leave you in peace to do your work."

Snape could tell that the witch was embarrassed and wanted to get the hell out of there, that is, if the characteristic way she wouldn't meet his eyes and her incredibly fast talking did anything to clue him in.

"Thank you again so much, for the book," Hermione added as she backed up toward the exit. "I mean it, it's really wonderful," she added with a genuine smile.

Snape offered a small smile in return. "Think nothing of it, Ms. Granger."

Hermione nodded, her smile growing wider. She then turned around to open the door when a thought struck her. She had almost completely forgotten to mention her earlier conversation with Harry!

"Before I go," she began slowly, "I just wanted to bring to your attention that Harry is having nightmares again."

Snape's eyes widened ever-so-slightly. "Is he?" he questioned in surprise.

Hermione nodded. "I managed to get it out of him today and I thought you should know, in case he keeps _forgetting_ to tell you himself," she added with a smirk.

"I appreciate you bringing this to my attention, Ms. Granger," he replied sincerely. '_Potter has got some explaining to do_.'

Hermione smiled sheepishly. "Well then, I guess I'll be seeing you, sir."

Snape regarded her retreating form with a serious expression. "I should certainly think so. Does tomorrow evening work for you?"

"Excuse me?" Hermione questioned, truly puzzled.

Snape gave her an expectant look. "You didn't think you could spill a potion I've been working on for over a week and not have to deal with the consequences, did you?"

A small smile spread across Hermione's face as her professor's meaning dawned on her. "Well, no! Of course not, sir."

"I didn't think so," he replied, now smirking. "So I'll see you tomorrow around seven then, to help with the preparation for a new batch?"

"Yes, sir, I'll be there," Hermione beamed. "Have a good night, sir."

"And you, Ms. Granger."

Hermione closed the door behind her, smiling widely and giving her cat a kiss on the head. "Oh, Crookshanks, you really are quite clever."

To be continued…

A/N: Beta-ed by Sindie


	10. Progress

Chapter 10: Progress

Severus Snape entered Harry Potter's mind with ease. However, before he could even begin to filter through the boy's memories, he was thrown forcefully out. The suddenness of it was dizzying, and Snape leaned back against his desk with his head in his hand to collect himself.

Harry's smile of triumph was cut short as he eyed his distraught looking professor.

"Sir?"

Snape quickly waved off the boy's concern. Standing upright once again, he regarded Harry with a smirk. "I believe it's safe to say that you have mastered that particular skill, Mr. Potter."

The Boy-Who-Lived beamed, flashing a winning smile at his professor.

"Don't go celebrating your victory yet," Snape began seriously. "We've only just scratched the surface."

Harry's shoulders slumped a little and obeyed the Potions master when he motioned for the boy to take a seat.

"What you have accomplished should only be used as a last resort, Potter." Snape was pacing in front of his student, going into full lecture mode. "Occlumency is very subtle and, as such, is quite revealing. If you were to, say, expel the Dark Lord's intrusion so quickly as you did with me, he would know that your skills in Occlumency are restricted at best and would simply take it upon himself to torture whatever information he desired out of you. Therefore, it is crucial that we get back to practicing memory alternating, selecting and concealing."

Harry couldn't help but let out a frustrated sigh. "I know I have to work on those things, sir, but the only real skill I've shown in this is just shoving you out."

Snape smirked. "As I said, Occlumency is especially subtle and you are… dreadfully blunt."

"Yeah, I get it," Harry cut back with a glare.

"Contrary to popular belief, you _can_ do this, Potter," Snape continued. "If you could manage to make me believe in you, I'd say you've already successfully completed the hardest part."

Harry smiled. "Well, you're right about that."

"I'm right on both accounts," the professor came back seriously. "Now then, we'll begin with memory alternating, as it is probably the simplest of the three to catch onto."

Harry found out quickly that calling it "simple" was, in his opinion, a flat out lie. The duo went at it for a good thirty minutes before Snape began losing his patience.

"All right," a haggard looking Snape sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Clearly this approach is failing. Perhaps if I explained it-"

"This is impossible!" the Boy-Who-Lived shouted in aggravation. "How am I ever going to get this?"

"Well, Harry," the Potions master began conversationally, "the first step is most important. Pay close attention. Are you listening?"

Harry nodded as he leaned forward with interest.

Snape placed his palms on Harry's desk and loomed over the boy. "Do_ not_ interrupt me again!" he snarled.

Wide eyed, the teenage wizard nodded once more. "Yes, sir."

Snape straightened back up, sighing deeply as he looked toward the ceiling. "As I was saying, I believe we should attempt this from another angle. When you think of alternating, it seems as though your initial reaction is to panic as you struggle to think of another memory to put in place of the one I'm searching for. Instead, you should have a specific memory or two picked out in advance. That way, when I or the Dark Lord enters your mind, you will have a specific memory waiting to be thrust forward. Do you understand?"

Harry nodded enthusiastically. He understood quite well. In fact, he had already picked out the perfect memory to try.

"I'm ready," the Boy-Who-Lived declared with confidence.

"_Merlin, let him succeed_," Snape thought to himself. "All right then, Harry, Legilimens!"

Snape began the task of filtering through the teenager's memories, looking for one that seemed the most meaningful to Harry. He stopped when he came across a conversation the boy was having with Dumbledore, knowing this would be a definite target of the Dark Lord's. Once he began viewing it, everything became fuzzy and all of the sudden, he was watching Alastor Moody tossing a ferret up and down as a crowd of students laughed hysterically. Try as he might to return to the original memory he had picked out, he was stuck. All he was able to view was the tiny ferret bouncing up and down.

Releasing his mind's hold on Potter's, he could hear laughter as he came back to reality.

"I never get tired of thinking about that," Harry said with a large smile.

"Potter," Snape began, trying not to sound _too_ astonished.

"Yes, Professor?" Harry asked innocently.

Severus was at a loss for words for the moment, before smiling widely at the younger wizard. "Well done, Harry, exceptional, in fact. Let's try it again."

Harry grinned even wider, as the obvious excitement in Professor Snape's voice was extremely contagious.

They continued the lesson for another hour, Harry proving himself time and time again as he changed the memory Snape wanted to view into varying recollections of Malfoy embarrassing himself.

When Snape requested that Harry attempt a new memory substitution, he found himself viewing Marcus Flint getting hit in the face with a bludger so hard, it knocked him off his broom.

"A resourceful Slytherin should have seen that coming," Harry teased, once Snape had exited his mind.

"It's not as if he's a bloody Seer, Potter."

"No," Harry replied before adding under his breath, "just a bloody idiot."

Attempting not to grin, Snape moved to his desk and began organizing papers.

"I believe that concludes today's lesson, Harry. If you wouldn't mind joining me at my desk?" Snape gave the teenager an expectant look as he gestured to the seat in front of him with his hand.

Dread overcame Harry suddenly, and the boy wasted little time grabbing his belongings.

"Um, actually, sir, I had really better get going," he mumbled quickly as he turned for the door.

"SIT."

Shoulders slumping, the teenager immediately turned around and shuffled back toward his professor and plopped down into the chair. He lifted his head to meet his professor's glaring eyes.

"Do we really have to go through this every time, sir?" Harry questioned, doing his best to not sound as though he was whining.

There must have been some complaint in his tone, however, as Snape did not look pleased.

"We wouldn't have to go through this at all if you had simply been truthful with me from the start," the professor replied heatedly.

Harry sighed. "Sir, I never lied to you; we've been over this."

"No, Potter, you only withheld vital information regarding your advancement with a most difficult magical concept, thereby endangering your very health."

Harry nodded with an almost guilty look on his face. "I'm sorry you had to find out from Hermione the other day, I really am. But, Professor, I'm not 'withholding' anything from you now. Not even yesterday or the day before. I haven't had any nightmares in close to a week."

Severus looked at Harry Potter hard. He did not cross that fragile line and attempt to read the teenager's mind, but he had always been gifted in that he could read the younger wizard's face, most notably his eyes, like an open book.

Harry was not a fan of Snape's deep scrutiny. In fact, he felt very much like he was under a magnifying glass.

"Am I through being cross-examined?" the Boy-Who-Lived asked with annoyance, getting out of his seat as he did so.

Snape's eyes narrowed. "Were you excused? I think not. I'm not finished with you yet."

Harry resumed sitting. He was doing his very best, and at the moment it took a lot of effort to remain respectful. The teenager braced himself for more of the impending lecture.

Snape gazed levelly at the young wizard across from him. "Your actions today went above and beyond my expectations. I'm very proud of you, Harry."

Harry sighed. "Look, I'm sorry, I- huh?"

Snape smirked at his student, and a wide smile spread across Harry's face.

"Thank you, Professor Snape," Harry replied sincerely.

"I don't give out compliments easily, Potter. You… may have noticed this over the years," he added with a grin.

Harry laughed. "Yes, sir, I noticed."

"Well, I meant every word."

Harry looked down, smiling sheepishly, and simply relished in the moment. Who would have thought, Professor Snape, proud of _him_? Harry Potter? This had done more than inflate his ego. Harry had earned his professor's respect and now had proven himself worthy in the older wizard's eyes. At that moment he felt as though there was nothing he couldn't do, and only hoped that he'd be able to continue to impress his professor as their lessons continued.

A minute or so later, when he looked back up, his eyes became very wide, and a child-like expression of glee covered his face.

"Professor! It's snowing!" the teenager shouted happily as he ran to the window to get a better look. "It's about bloody time!"

Snape remained at his desk. "Do try and calm yourself, Harry. It _does_ happen every year," he replied, as if bored.

Harry's eyebrows rose, his face filled with skepticism. "I find it hard to believe that even _you_ can't enjoy the first snowfall of the year."

Sighing, Snape sauntered over to Harry, joining the boy at the window. He gazed out over the snow with Harry grinning widely at his side.

"Well?" the Boy-Who-Lived asked expectantly, after several moments of silence.

The professor's face remained stoic, however. "While I'm sure you are most eager with anticipation for me to reply with something along the lines of 'awe-inspiring', I, unfortunately, can think of only two things: being cold and having a castle full of sick children."

Harry rolled his eyes as he pushed away from the window. "Don't be such a Grinch, sir."

Snape quirked a questioning eyebrow. "I beg your pardon?"

Harry looked confused before realization dawned on him. "Oh, right; sorry, sir. Let's see… well, the Grinch is this character that really despises Christma-"

"I _know_ who the Grinch is, Potter," Snape bit back. "I am a wizard; I have not been both blind _and_ deaf for the entirety of my life."

"Well, then, what were you asking me for?" Harry questioned exasperatedly.

"Because," Snape began, appearing uncharacteristically defensive on his own behalf, "I am most certainly _not_ a Grinch."

Harry smirked. "Really? Well, pardon me, sir, but are you even aware of the fact that Christmas is only four days away?"

The Potions master closed his eyes tightly. "Once again, Potter, I have not been living in a cave."

Harry chuckled. "Okay, then, fine. If you're not a Grinch; prove it."

Now it was Severus' turn to smirk. "What would you have me do? Wear a Santa hat? Join Albus in some post-dinner caroling? Or is this just your round-about way of trying to receive more presents?"

Harry's smile grew wider, if at all possible. "Oh, it's even better. Ron, Hermione, and I always have a snowball fight during the first snow of the year. It would be an even match for once if you came along, too." The teenager hinted in a less than subtle way, directing a hopeful look at his professor.

Snape's face, however, held no sign of amusement, in any shape or form. "Preposterous. It's positively absurd. You would do well to stop disappointing yourself with such nonsensical notions, Potter."

The teenage wizard couldn't help but feel let down, and his face fell as his professor made to leave the room.

"Besides," Snape added with a devious glance over his shoulder, "if I were involved, the match would most certainly not be 'even'."

* * *

During dinner, Hermione had been regaling Harry and Ron with how much she learned while assisting Professor Snape with his potion making the last few nights. While Harry had been truly happy that his friend and Snape were getting along, even he was getting tired of the constant gushing. Ron, not surprisingly, made no secret as to how bored he was with the conversation, and immediately took a chance to change the conversation topic when the trio left the Great Hall after dinner, making their way outside.

"Are you sure you don't want to come back to my place for the holidays?" Ron asked the Boy-Who-Lived for probably the seventh time. "You know everyone wants to see you."

Harry rolled his eyes at his friend's concern. "Really, Ron, I'm going to be fine. I won't have to see the Dursleys, and I can guarantee Snape has plenty of work to keep me busy."

"Yeah, I know…" Ron replied slowly, "but when are you going to have any _fun_?"

"There will be other kids here besides me, you know. And also, Snape isn't _all_ work and discipline and… scowls, anymore."

Ron gave Harry an unconvinced look.

"He's not!" Harry came back defensively.

"Well, I think it's wonderful that you're staying here, Harry," Hermione finally chimed in. "From what you told us at dinner, it sounds as though you're making excellent progress, and this break will give you and Professor Snape much more time to work together uninterrupted, which, I think, is a lot more important than goofing off all break long," she finished with a glare in Ron's direction.

"You guys don't have to gang up on me!" Ron cried in defense. "I know it's important that Harry keeps working with Snape; I'm not a moron! I just want him to enjoy himself a _little_ during _Christmas_, okay?"

Harry smiled and put his arm around Ron's shoulders as they exited the castle.

Before he could say anything, however, the trio stopped in their tracks and gazed out over the blanket of pristine white snow, glittering in the setting sunlight across the Hogwarts grounds. It was the type of perfection that you wanted to pause and truly take in, before running across it and jumping into it.

After about ten seconds of not moving, the three Gryffindors began whooping with joy, tearing across the snow. Hermione immediately set about making a snowman, while both Ron and Harry ventured in opposite directions to begin construction on protective walls for their impending snowball fight.

Other students began filtering out of the school now; shouts of joy and yells of excitement echoed across the grounds as nearly one hundred students began playing in the snow. Snowballs were being thrown every which way; snowmen and snow angels were being made everywhere, and some students were even Transfiguring the snow into various objects. Harry noted a replica of a Norwegian Ridgeback that was very impressive.

The fun continued for well over an hour, and the only light that remained came from the moon, when it wasn't behind frequently passing clouds.

Hermione was beginning to feel rather exhausted, as well as a little irritable. Even though the boys had said they'd take turns rotating teams for the snowball fight, she felt as though it was them against her far too often.

She was currently squatting behind her protective barrier, wincing as snowball after snowball broke away tiny pieces of her wall one by one. It wouldn't be long before she had no wall left at all! Deciding she had definitely had enough for one night, she muttered the Protego spell before standing up. The boys continued their assault, but Ron's wide grin disappeared when he realized all of the snowballs were simply bouncing off of her.

"Hey! No magic, 'Mione. You know it's against the rules!"

"Because two against one for well over an hour is certainly fair!" she shouted back.

"I thought you could handle it!" Ron bellowed back. "Your exact words were 'I can _easily_ take the two of you on.' Having second thoughts, then? Can't take the pressure?"

Hermione was getting very angry, fuming, in fact. "I've been _handling_ myself just fine, Ronald Weasley. I'd like to see _you_ defend yourself as I have for that long!"

Ron was beginning to turn red in the face. "I could last twice as long as you, with one hand tied behind my back!"

"I highly doubt that," Hermione replied, rolling her eyes. "I'm going inside; goodnight, _Harry_," she said as she turned for the castle, completely ignoring Ron.

Ron scowled, and began making the biggest snowball he could to throw at his friend's back.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Harry beseeched from a few feet away. "You're only going to make things worse."

"She's got it coming," he mumbled angrily in response.

As the red-headed boy drew his arm back, large snowball in hand, he was suddenly barraged with a good fifty snowballs, hitting him every which way from every direction.

Harry simply stayed low to the ground, confusion masking his features as his friend continued to be pelted with the seemingly possessed balls of snow.

"Hey! Ow! What the-? Who's-? Harry!" Ron continued to cry out, causing Hermione to turn around and look his way. After the onslaught had stopped, both Harry and Hermione ran over to their friend who was now sitting on the ground.

"What in the world was that?" Hermione questioned.

Ron glared up at his friend. "Oh, right, like you don't know."

Hermione huffed. "I most certainly do not! How would I know what happened?"

"Because you knew I was about to throw a huge snowball at your back and wanted to get back at me!"

Hermione was about to continue her protest before Harry stepped in.

"Ron, we were watching her the whole time; she never turned around. How could she have possibly known you were about to do that?"

Ron scratched his head. "Well who did it then?"

The trio began turning their heads, looking around themselves in all directions. Hermione then nudged Harry, pointing somewhere toward the castle.

"Look!" she whispered to her friends.

Everyone's attention snapped to where she was pointing. They could just make out the silhouette against the white snow of a tall thin man, in a long dark cloak, with his arms crossed over his chest.

Harry began laughing; Hermione was beaming, and Ron began grumbling angrily.

The man began walking toward the group, his long strides revealing that his black robes were even darker at the bottom where they had been dragging in the melting snow. Once he was within a few feet of the young Gryffindors, his steely expression turned into a smirk.

"That was very impressive, Professor!" Hermione said as she smiled up at the wizard.

"I'll say," Harry added, still laughing.

"Yeah, it was bloody fantastic," Ron grumbled, still sitting in the snow.

"Come now, Mr. Weasley," Snape began impishly, "it's just a little fun."

"Yeah, fun…" Ron mumbled. "I'm pretty sure Harry wanted to have some fun; why don't you try it on _him_ next time?" he continued grumbling as he struggled to stand. His eyes just about popped out of his head when he realized Snape was offering him a helping hand.

The red-headed Gryffindor just sat and stared at the offer of help as though if he blinked it might go away.

Snape rolled his eyes. "I'm not going to bite, Weasley." His tone showed his impatience, and he inched his outstretched hand toward the shocked boy.

Swallowing, Ron slowly grabbed his professor's hand and was quickly pulled into a standing position.

"Er… thanks," was the dignified response that he managed to spit out.

Harry and Hermione were trying their best not to laugh, and Ron threw them a hateful look.

"You're welcome," Snape replied simply. He was doing a much better job of hiding his amusement than the other two.

"I'm heading in," Ron said after a few moments, his ears tinted red with embarrassment. "Goodnight," he added before walking away.

Hermione turned toward Snape with a large grin. "That was brilliant, Professor! Thanks!" she whispered excitedly.

"Believe me, Ms. Granger, the pleasure was all mine," he replied sincerely.

"Have a nice holiday, sir!" she added quickly before calling out to Ron and running to catch up.

"I'll be there in a minute, guys!" Harry called after his friends.

They both waved their assent, and Harry turned back to his professor with a smile.

"Really, sir, that was hilarious. How long were you out here for?"

"Not long. Just enough to witness the argument between those two, and to decide when the right moment to intervene would be."

Harry laughed some more, before a look of confusion crossed his face and he looked down.

"Is there a problem, Harry?" Snape questioned seriously.

Harry raised his head, grinning widely. "Not really, I just realized I can't feel my feet."

Snape sighed in annoyance. "Wonderful. Let's get you inside then, shall we? That way you can rejoin your friends and do… whatever it is that Gryffindors do with their free time."

Harry smirked. "All right, sir. But you go ahead; I lost a scarf out here earlier and want to look for it really quick."

Snape nodded and began walking toward the castle. Harry smiled devilishly at his back and began making a large snowball. He hadn't lost a scarf; he hadn't even worn one! He knew that he could never hit his professor with a snowball if the older wizard saw it coming. Standing up, Harry drew back his arm and took aim for his professor's back. Throwing as hard as he could, he watched with glee as the ball headed straight for his target. His smile soon turned to a look of horror, however, as the ball missed the target spot and, instead, hit his professor directly in the back of the head.

Snape closed his eyes tightly in aggravation. He could feel the ice cold, melting snow in his hair. It then slowly trickled down the back of his neck and into the collar of his robes. An involuntary shiver passed through him as the ice water continued its journey down over his spine, settling at the small of his back.

Harry watched with fear as his professor slowly turned around to face him. The Boy-Who-Lived winced as he met his mentor's eyes. It wasn't because his professor was scowling, or because his eyes were narrowed with rage. No, no, it was the large grin on the older wizard's face that unsettled Harry. Well, that, and the dangerously mischievous glint in his eyes.

The snow at Snape's feet began to rise in spots, almost as though it was bubbling. Certain spots slowed and others sped up, so that the timing became right for a wave to form. Snape sent the wave of snow toward Harry, and the teenager watched with shock as it gained not only speed, but volume as well. As Harry did the only thing he could do, which was run, he glanced back to see the wave had risen to be a good twenty feet over his head. He ran as fast as he could, but it was no use. His feet got tripped up as the snow around his ankles rose, and he went tumbling, head over heels as the icy cold snow consumed him.

When the wave had finally settled, only Harry's head and most of his right arm were exposed. The rest of the teenager's body remained under the snow, and he could feel the icy chill of it begin to affect him.

As his professor approached his trapped body, he looked up slowly to meet the wizard's eyes.

"You win this round, Professor Snape."

He tried to sound menacing, but Snape merely smiled at the weak voice that spoke through chattering teeth.

The professor grabbed Harry's exposed hand and pulled the teenager up and out of the snow. He then cast a drying spell over Harry, and wrapped his arm around the boy tightly as he began guiding him back up to the castle.

"I still say you're a Grinch," Harry muttered quietly through his chattering teeth.

Snape simply smacked the back of the teenager's head lightly, before settling his arm around Harry once again and continuing their way to the warmth of the castle.

To be continued…

A/N: Beta-ed by Sindie


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